Bomber Witches: Queens Of The Sky
by RobertaMorgan
Summary: Strike Witches was always about the fighters and their heroic deeds against the Neuroi. But what about the tougher missions that they couldn't handle themselves? This is where the role of the Bomber Witch comes in. Join Roberta Morgan and her team of bombers as they pound the Neuroi from above, and help to bring peace back to Europe.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The year is 1944. The Neuroi have tightened their grip on Karlsland, creating fortresses and capturing all remaining strongholds therein. It is a desperate fight for the country, and the future seems bleak. Large B-17 and Lancaster raids occur around the clock on Neuroi targets, but they are helpless against the enemies fighters and tactics. But ever since the development of the striker unit by Dr. Miyafuji, the Liberion Air Force has experimented with their own variation, bomber units, to combat the Neuroi threat. They have selected only the witches with the highest magical energy potential for these units, and they are referred to as the Bomber Witches. Hailing from the European and Pacific theaters, Bomber Witches unite as the 8th Joint Strike Force. Based out of RAF High Wycombe in Brittania, they are Liberion's finest forces, and they will always get through...


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Brittanian Channel Incident**

All was quiet on the waters of the Brittanian channel, except for some fish jumping in the water. A young girl was high in the sky, with a .50 cal machine gun in hand, binoculars in the other, a white lily in her hair, and large blue PBY-5a Catalina bomber units on her legs. Soaring over the channel, her Twin Wasp engines were buzzing happily, and her strawberry blonde hair was flying as she scanned the skies and sea for activity. The Catalina units were not very fast, but it provided a stable platform for reconnaissance and patrol bombing. "Samantha Laddon reporting in, call sign Miss Pick Up. No activity out here, other than a couple flying fish." The girl chirped over the radio.

"Wycombe tower, copy that Miss Pick Up. Your shift is about over, and you are cleared to return to base." The Brittanian controller replied.

"Copy that Wycombe, returning to base. Miss Pick Up out." She confirmed, ending the transmission.

Several yards behind her were two of her squad mates, one red-headed girl and one brunette, both of them flying B-17 bomber units. They were Roberta Morgan and Esther Morgan, sisters who joined the 8th Joint Strike Force together. Following from a distance, they seemed to be in conversation. Samantha looked at her bomber units. The old Catalina units had seen a lot of action, but none had as many hours on them as hers. Steadying her grip on the Browning M2, she did one last sweep with her instruments before heading northeast. But as she changed heading towards the aerodrome, she noticed the aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal moving through the channel. After a while she looked closer, and could see small fires illuminating the deck, and multiple small explosions.

"What the... I'd better get a closer look." Samantha said worriedly.

Pulling out her binoculars, she saw oil fires on the deck, and sailors jumping off the lower decks. Then there was a loud crashing noise, as the carrier was struck on the starboard side by a torpedo. Her scanners perked up, as a small blip appeared on her sonar detector.

"Miss Pick Up to Wycombe, come in Wycombe!" Samantha called out over the intercom.

"Wycombe tower here, go ahead." The Brittanian controller answered.

"Brittanian carrier HMS Ark Royal is currently under attack in the channel! I've picked up a sonar contact, it might be an undersea Neuroi of some sort."

"Copy that Miss Pick Up, stand by. We've got Beaufighter patrols that are in the area, they're confirming this as well."

"Miss Pick Up to Wycombe, requesting further orders."

Suddenly, a Neuroified Type XXI U-boat surfaced, and shot down the Beaufighters with its four anti-aircraft lasers.

"Mayday! Mayday! We're hit! Going down!" The first pilot yelled.

"I'm hit! Control wires shot to hell! No bloody stick response! Tell me mum I love her!" Cried the second pilot.

Samantha watched in horror as the doomed Beaufighters smashed into a watery grave.

"Damn those Neuroi..." Said the tower controller as the two allied blips disappeared from radar. "Miss Pick Up, weapons free, pop that sub before it attacks again. Reinforcements will be arriving in a few minutes, so hang in there!"

"Understood Wycombe, will engage enemy submarine at my own discretion." The lily-adorned girl replied.

Samantha peeled off towards the Ark Royal, carefully descending to about three hundred feet, approaching the Neuroi and preparing to deploy her two 1005 kilogram torpedoes. Needless to say, her enemy was now aware of her presence, and opened fire with the deck guns. Sam deployed her shield, and several of the laser shots were deflected as she closed in. The Neuroi started getting anxious as the menacing bomber closed the distance, and attempted to crash dive. Before it did, she released her torpedoes, and they slammed into the port side of the U-boat. It invoked a screech from the possessed vessel, as the armor was ripped apart, exposing the core. Water flowed into the newly created gap, and it began sinking. That was when Samantha pulled out her machine gun, and opened fire, landing several direct hits on the core, which shattered the submarine into silver shards. She breathed a sigh of relief as the shards floated around like snowflakes in winter.

Just then, Sam saw the two other bomber witches. The one brunette girl was wearing a blue summer dress with a white hat and stockings. The other one had vibrant red hair, and she wore a short red dress.

"Samantha, are you ok?!" Roberta called out as they flew over to her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. A bit shaken, but... I'm certain that was a Type XXI U-boat, one made only in Karlsland. If one of those was Neuroified, then they must've breached the security at the sub pens across the channel. Our transport convoys could be in serious danger..." Samantha muttered worriedly.

"I'll talk to the commander. If they've captured those pens, we'll need some serious firepower to take the fight to them." Roberta said.

"Indeed." Esther said as she held her hat with her hand. "Those fortified shelters have some thick armor. We're talking at least 18 inches of solid concrete here, it's not going to break easily. Also, many apologies for falling behind…" Esther apologized.

They noticed the allied destroyers approaching to rescue the sailors of Ark Royal, and decided to fly back to Wycombe.

High Wycombe Aerodrome,

The Base Commander's office

"Sir, today Ark Royal was attacked by a Neuroified Type XXI U-boat. We have reason to believe its point of origin is a submarine pen across the channel in Karlsland." Roberta informed the commander.

The commander sat there in his chair, the sunlight reflecting off the medals pinned to his uniform. Just by looking, one could tell he was a powerful figure.

"I see... But we can't allocate any more bombers to that task. All our B-17's are concentrated on the hives, and our Lancasters are all assigned to night raids. We'd have to get more support out here." He responded primly.

"If it helps, I know a couple of bomber witches over in the Pacific theater..." Samantha suggested.

"Well then by all means, give me some names." The commander clasped his hands together.

"Off the top of my head, I know Thelma Cartwright, a B-24J witch, and Pauline Tibbets, a B-29H witch. They're both stationed in the Marianas Islands." Sam replied thoughtfully.

"I'll see what I can do. Until then, keep up the good work." The commander replied, looking out his office window.

"Thank you very much sir!" They said, saluting him as they exited.

The commander then pressed a button on the telephone sitting on his desk. As he leaned forward, he spoke clearly into the microphone with a commanding tone. "Get Jamie Doolittle on the line."

The secretary responded in affirmation, and then made the connection. "Sir. Lieutenant Colonel is now on line 1. Connecting you."

"Thank you." He acknowledged, as he picked up the receiver. After a few seconds to make certain the line was secure, he began to inform her of the situation. "Lieutenant Colonel Doolittle, I need a favor. Can you transfer Miss Tibbets and Miss Cartwright to High Wycombe?"

Soon her serious, feminine voice responded. "Hmmm... I don't know, they're very valuable to me."

"They were personally recommended for this mission by Miss Laddon." The commander urged.

"Sammy? Well why didn't you say so? I'll escort them over, personally. MacArthur can handle everything over here in my absence." Jamie replied cheerily.

"Personally? Jamie, are you certain that is a wise idea?" His tone grew more severe.

"Of course. Can't let anything bad happen to my two best witches." Jamie chirped.

"Alright. Tell them to pack up tonight. We've discovered that the sub pens across the channel were taken over and activated, after a Neuroified submarine from Karlsland attacked HMS Ark Royal in the channel today. They've been making fortresses in Karlsland in the past, but they're getting too close for comfort now." He informed her.

"In that case, I'm transferring for the time being as well. I definitely want a piece of that action." Jamie said in a challenging tone.

"Just get over here, ASAP." The commander enunciated.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Jamie gently set the receiver down, as a grin slowly crept across her face. Grabbing her 75mm T13E1, she headed outside and was struck by the intense humidity and heat. Clark Air Base wasn't the worst base to be on, but there were better places, certainly less humid ones. Shouldering the massive cannon, Jamie began walking toward a C-47 transport plane that had been readied for her use. After boarding and securing everything, the pilot radioed the control tower for clearance. About ten minutes later, Jamie felt the beast lurch forward, as the engines roared and sent the Skytrain zooming down the runway and into the sky, bound for Tinian.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Strength in Numbers**

Meanwhile on Tinian, Pauline Tibbets was sitting in the mess hall of the base, still wearing her PT clothes. Her black hair was still tied up in a ponytail, and her glasses had fogged up from the humidity, which obscured her vision for a little. Her sports bra and gym shorts seemed to stick to her like a second skin, the sweat acting like an adhesive between her skin and clothes. Pauline had just returned from morning training exercise, and was greeted with a rather vile plate of half spoiled meat and vegetables from the cafeteria. "This is what happens when you put faulty refrigerator units on slow transports coming all the way from Australis." She frowned, wrinkling her nose at the rather disgusting food. "I think I'll skip lunch today..."

Pushing her plate away, she watched in horror and disgust as one of the grunts across from her grabbed the plate, and consumed it ravenously. Suddenly, there was a sound like someone clearing their throat. Turning around, there stood the faithful postal officer, who handed her a sealed envelope. After cautiously accepting it, and contemplating what it might say, she walked into the hallway to read it.

The letter said:

"Lieutenant Pauline Tibbets, effective immediately by request of RAF High Wycombe Command, you and Officer Thelma Cartwright are to be transferred to the 8th Joint Strike Force in Brittania. Please have your bags packed and ready by tonight, Lieutenant Colonel Jamie Doolittle will escort you to Brittania." –General Curtiss Lemay

Pauline stared at the envelope curiously, her purple eyes gleaming, and walked to the barracks. Upon reaching the door, she turned the knob and was greeted with a dark room, lit only by a reading lamp in the corner. Under that lamp sat Thelma Cartwright, who was reading some documents from the Research and Development department. As Pauline walked in, Thelma looked up with her gray blue eyes, and the light reflected gently off of her curly blonde hair.

"Back already? What happened Pauly?" She inquired.

"Please don't call me that. Go pack your bags, we've been transferred and we're leaving tonight." Pauline said, almost snapping at Thelma.

"Transferred? To where?" The blonde girl inquired.

"According to this letter, we leave tonight for High Wycombe, escorted by Lt. Col. Doolittle." Pauline stated.

"Wow. We're going straight to the heart of the action, escorted by Doolittle herself. Unbelievable..." Thelma replied wondrously.

"Yes, that's why you should pack your bags." Pauline urged, becoming visibly annoyed.

"Alright alright... Miss bossy pants..." Getting up, she set the book down and walked in Pauline's direction. "Oh no, I'm about to crash into the mountain range!" She said in a teasing manner, and buried her face in her friend's chest.

"T-T-Thelma! Get a grip!" Pauline cried. Pushing her away, she tried to hide her blushing cheeks and went to go shower. Thelma only smiled, and whistled a happy tune as she packed her luggage.

Later that night, Jamie's C-47 touched down on the runway. It was a rather rough landing, as the runways on Tinian were crude and still had not been prepared for the massive B-29 bombers that would soon occupy them. Jamie stepped out of the plane, and saw Pauline and Thelma standing by the hangar at attention and clean as a whistle.

"At ease, ladies." Jamie said. "Grab your bags and get on board. I'll explain on the way."

The two girls boarded the plane, and Jamie assisted them with their bags. Soon the C-47 was high in the sky, and the little islands shrank from view and looked like they were swallowed up by the ocean.

"So let me bring you up to speed. A few days ago, the Brittanian aircraft carrier Ark Royal was attacked by a Neuroified submarine, believed to have originated from a submarine pen across the channel in Karlsland. Command believes that the pens have been seized by the Neuroi, and it poses a threat to our supply lines, as well as any other ships that travel there."

Thelma raised her hand slowly. "So... Why not just bomb it?"

"Well that's the issue at hand. Currently, all B-17's are conducting raids around the clock on Neuroi hives. We can't allocate any more forces to this job, and besides, they're not suited for a job like this. They're not accurate enough. Brittania needs the bomber witches, more than ever before..." Jamie said, looking out the window.

The plane kept flying, stopping at friendly bases along the way for fuel.

Back at High Wycombe, the witches were maintaining their bombers, and preparing for the upcoming raid.

"So, I overheard the phone conversation." Samantha said with excitement.

Roberta rolled her eyes. "As usual. You hear just about everything."

"This is important though! Pauline and Thelma are on their way here, and are being escorted personally by Lt. Col. Doolittle!" Sam said with excitement, as they stopped to look at her.

"Doolittle? THE Jamie Doolittle? The one who led the first Neuroi counterattack in the Pacific?" Esther cried out incredulously.

"The one and only. I think she might stick around too, if this ends quickly she'll probably escort them back as well." Samantha replied.

"Wow. This mission just became a very serious operation, if Doolittle is coming out here too." Roberta said, carefully wiping down her B-17 units.

"Yeah. By the way, after a couple more patrol missions, I think I'll be able to triangulate the exact location of our target." Samantha said. "I should eventually receive a report from Erica Brown, our maritime patrol witch."

"Good. Now the other question is, how much firepower do we need to punch through 18 inches of solid concrete?" Esther wondered, thinking out loud.

"Hmm... I don't know, but that's one of the reasons why I called in Pauline and Thelma. They're demolition experts." Samantha answered.

"Hold on, 'demolition experts?' Don't all bomber witches fall under that category?" Roberta laughed as she replied.

"Not quite. There's a difference between carpet bombing and pinpoint strikes. Thelma is a B-24J witch and has Azon guided munitions for precision strikes, while Pauline is a B-29H witch so she has almost three times the payload of a B-17 witch like you or Esther." Samantha clarified.

"Ok, so I have 2,721kg, Esther has 2,721kg, Thelma has 3,628kg, Samantha has 1,814kg, Jamie has 1,360kg, and Pauline has 9,071kg bombload. Altogether, that's..." Roberta struggled, trying to compute the answer.

"21,315 kilograms of ordnance. Think that'll cut it?" Esther said, doing the math in her head.

"We may just have to... wing it..." Samantha snickered.

"Please tell me you did not just try to make a joke." Roberta and Pauline both said, frowning at Samantha.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it..." Samantha continued to snicker to herself.

Later that night, Roberta snuck into the hangar and decided to fly out over the channel. Soon she was high in the sky, playing in the clouds as they lazily floated by. She took a deep breath of the cool night air, and sighed as she exhaled.

"I remember what it was like before this all started. I was just an average girl, until my parents left, and I suddenly found myself assuming all responsibility. I remember taking care of young Esther, going to school together, the day we graduated, and the day I discovered my powers..."

Her hair and skin began glowing hot like live coals, as she smirked and revved her bomber units, as she flew straight up like a rocket.

On the ground, a young B-17 gunner was walking home from the base pub, and looked up to see a bright light in the sky. He squinted a bit and stared, thinking it was a shooting star or a new rocket plane.

Roberta intentionally stalled and did a hammerhead, falling hundreds of meters per second towards the dark waters of the channel. She recovered 1000 feet above sea level, just skimming above the surface of the water, forming a cloud of steam behind her. She pulled up and did a wide, lazy turn back to base. Disengaging her magic, she went in to land. But as she approached the hangar, the base commander walked in, and she screeched to a halt.

"Rather impressive light show, Lt. Morgan." Lemay said with a slightly intimidating tone.

"Um..." Roberta twiddled her fingers nervously.

"Tell you what, I'm just going to pretend that this never happened, provided you get back to your barracks before curfew. Which is in... 3 minutes." Lemay said, looking at his watch.

"Thank you sir!" Roberta called out, as she hurried back to her room.

Curtiss sighed. "She's powerful indeed, and I just hope she can learn to control herself..."

Esther was asleep in the room, as Roberta walked in and lay down on her own bed. But she made a wrong step, as her foot landed on a creaky floorboard. Esther slowly rolled over, gradually opening her eyes. "You did it again, didn't you?" Esther said, turning the light on.

"Well... I have to let off steam sometimes..." Roberta replied nervously.

"Did you get in trouble?" Esther prompted groggily.

"No, they let me off with a warning. It's no big deal." Roberta shrugged.

"Roberta, try to control yourself. Our jobs are very important. If you get detained, it's going to make things much harder not just for us, but for everyone else. Why do you think we're called in for these jobs?" Esther demanded.

"To assist the Strike Witches and Land Witches with the heavy targets, I get it." Roberta plopped down on her bed.

"Not just that, every successful strike we make means more morale for the troops and the folks back home. Remember what your 25th mission meant to everyone?" Esther prompted.

"Alright, alright. I'm going to bed." Roberta said, yawning.

"Alright. Good night." Esther rolled over, and turned out the light.

That night, Roberta dreamt of that fateful day on May 17th, 1943. The sky was frigid, temperatures nearing sub-zero, as a formation of B-17's loomed over Wilhelmshaven, Karlsland. The flak coming up at them was thick, very thick. So thick that you could get out and walk on it. When it stopped, it only meant one thing: fighters. A glint in the sky was the only warning, as a formation of Neuroi fighters dove out of the sky, slicing the lead plane in half with their laser cannons. There was a short pause, before the fuel tanks caught fire, spreading to the .50 cal ammunition boxes. They popped one by one, as flames filled the plane. As though it couldn't get any worse, the fire reached the bomb bay and the plane exploded violently, killing all crew aboard instantly. "Flight lead is down! Second in command, take the baton!" Someone commanded over the radio, as other bombers mid-formation began to take fire. "Oh god! They're everywhere!" "They're diving right out of the sun! I can't see them!" "We're not gonna make it! We're gonna die…!" Voices cried out over the intercom, overlapping and interrupted by static, as planes began dropping out of the sky. Some planes that lost control began to drift, colliding with other planes in the formation. "At this rate… We won't have enough striking power… Where is our air support?!" The flight lead runner up said in frustration.

A Neuroi fighter was diving straight at the second in command, its menacing black shape striking fear into the crew's eyes. The gunners were unable to track the target, as the tracer rounds flew right past it. "I didn't sign up for this-" The pilot began muttering. Suddenly, .50 cal tracers flew in from an unknown source, piercing the core of the Neuroi, as silver shards showered the B-17 harmlessly. The pilot turned to look, and pointed as a girl clothed in red swooped down out of the sky, the barrel of her Browning machine gun glowing red hot. "Sorry it took so long fellas. I had to deal with some Hornisse type heavy fighters up above." Roberta's calming voice came over the radio. The B-17 crews, who were half scared to death, began to cheer when they saw the young redhead fly past them, her B-17 units roaring loudly. "Let's blow this thing and go home." Roberta smiled, as she passed the new flight lead. "Y-Yeah… All planes, form up on Memphis Belle. Open bomb bay doors, and prepare to drop bombs as soon as she does. …and you'd better pay attention! I don't want to report to command that you dropped one on a schoolhouse because you lost focus!" He snapped. Roberta seemed oblivious to all the young adolescent eyes behind her, as she flew in front of the formation. Activating her Norden bombsight, a tool that was unique to the Bomber Witches, the bay doors on her bomber units opened. The crosshairs in her lens dragged along, until a black dome came into view. Flak came up at them once more, but they held formation until the crosshair was right on top of the Neuroi hive. "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the Neuroi bugs bite! Bombs away!" Roberta called out, pressing a red button on the bombsight as six 1000 pound bombs dropped from her bomber units. In a synchronous action, the rest of the formation reported 'bombs away,' as the iron rain poured out from the clouds, hurtling down towards Wilhelmshaven at tremendous speed. As the rain of death struck, it pierced through the shielding of the hives, exploding right on top of the core and incinerating everything within a square mile. There was an intense screeching noise as the structure burnt to the ground, shattering and crumbling as the core exploded into silvery shards amongst the ashes. The deed was done.

The next morning they woke up bright and early to the sound of a C-47 landing on the base. They went outside to greet it, and saw Doolittle step out, waving at them.

"Hey girls," she called out loudly. "How you doing?"

"Wow..." Esther said, blushing slightly. "It's Lt. Col. Doolittle herself..."

Just then, Samantha looked over at her with a sly grin, and decided to tease her. "Esther, do you like Jamie or something?"

"N-no! I just really admire her!" Esther mumbled, getting a bit flustered.

Suddenly Pauline appeared in the doorway of the plane. Upon hearing this dialogue, she scoffed a little bit. "Cut the chatter ladies, we've got a lot of important business to take care of."

Just then, Samantha noticed Thelma behind her, and began waving. "Thelma!" she called out, smiling broadly.

Thelma walked down the ramp to hug Samantha. "Hey Sammy! How have you been?"

"Oh I'm doing just fine, even better now that you two are here."

"C'mon, let's get our stuff to the barracks, then go to check-in, then to the briefing room-" Pauline began, before being interrupted.

"Whoa now, calm down Pauline." Jamie interjected. "One thing at a time, ok?"

"Yeah Pauly, you should really calm down. You seem tense~" Thelma said as she embraced Pauline from behind.

"Stop that. Can you please try to be more professional?" Pauline scowled a bit, though her face had flushed red somewhat from embarrassment.

But before they could proceed to the base, one of the army jeeps drove up and stopped next to them. The recruiting officer stepped out, along with two girls who were also in the vehicle. A brunette girl with a white cowgirl hat, and a blonde girl with a red swimsuit.

"Good news. We have fresh blood from the academy. Ladies, meet Abigail Kennedy and Alice Godlasky."

"So much for one thing at a time..." Jamie sighed.

The recruiting officer cleared his throat, then gestured to the two recruits. "Ladies, please introduce yourselves."

"Abigail Kennedy, fresh from the academy at Fort Worth. Nice to meet y'all." The girl said in a distinct western accent.

"Alice Godlasky, graduate from the academy in Oshkosh. Or as some know it, the drinking town with a flying problem." The girl giggled softly.

"Nice to meet you, girls. We're all family here, so make yourselves at home." Roberta gave them a warm and reassuring smile.

The girls were escorted to the 8th JSF's temporary headquarters, talking as they walked along. After crossing the hot black pavement, they came to what looked like an old chapel building that looked it had been partially bombed out. A large hole in the roof was evidence of this, as it let beams of light into the room. Some of the wooden pews were still intact, and radio consoles lined part of the eastern wall. At the bell tower, the pinnacle of the building, hung the old bronze bell, which served as the air raid warning system during earlier years. The barracks were next door, and the hangar was across the tarmac.

Jamie stepped up onto the stage, as the girls filed in and sat down.

"Alright ladies, I'm Lt. Col. Doolittle, and effective as of now, the new superior of the 8th Joint Strike Force."

"Wait, when was this decided?" Thelma asked curiously.

"Well, I may be in a different theater, but I still have a position of authority. Plus, with my ability I can create strategies for us. Is there any opposition to this?" She stared around the room.

Roberta fidgeted in her seat a little. "That's kind of beside the point." Standing up, she smiled and said, "Welcome to High Wycombe, ladies!"

"Thank you kindly." The young Texan girl replied. "Abigail Kennedy at your service. Mistress of deception, princess of the tricksters, and bomber witch extraordinaire.

Roberta attempted to shake her hand, but her whole arm passed through, and Abigail disappeared. Then the real Abigail came out from behind the hangar and walked up behind them. As she began laughing, they all jumped a little from surprise, except for Samantha.

"It's cool, isn't it? That's my Facade ability. I can create holograms, landscape mirages, all sorts of optical illusions, and-"

"Abigail! I told you not to do that!" Alice reprimanded her.

"Why? The look on y'all's face was priceless."

Roberta noticed that Samantha was completely undisturbed by this, and walked closer to her.

"Samantha, you weren't scared just now?"

"Course not." Samantha replied with a cool tone in her voice. "I have enhanced vision and hearing, I knew exactly what was going on."

"So why didn't you say anything?"

At this, Samantha smiled. "Like she said, the look on y'all's faces was priceless."

The entire group laughed, as they walked down the tarmac.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Meet Your Squadmates**

Later, in the briefing room…

Jamie stepped up to the podium, while all the witches were standing at attention in the room. "At ease, ladies." She said firmly.

They all sat down, and began looking at one another as Jamie activated her hawk familiar, and projected a holographic battle plan into the center of the room.

"Now then, as you all may know, a few days ago the aircraft carrier Ark Royal was attacked by Neuroified Type XXI U-boats originating from Karlsland. This has lead us to believe that the submarine pen, Elbe II, has been captured by the Neuroi ground forces. Now, our plan is simple. We fly over there in box style defensive formation, then we strike the defensive concrete bunker surrounding it. However, it will take a concentrated strike to destroy it, because we're talking at least 18 inches of reinforced concrete here."

Esther raised her hand cautiously. "Ma'am, who'll be the flight lead?"

"I'll most likely be the flight lead, unless command decides otherwise. Why?"

"Er, I meant, nothing…" She blushed, putting her hand back on her lap.

"Alright then. Now, I want you all to properly introduce yourselves again. State your first and last name, your call sign, your bomber unit model, familiar, and your ability, in that order. You in the red, how about you go first?"

"Absolutely, ma'am!" She jumped up and turned to face the other girls, her vibrant red dress and red hair catching everyone's eye. "My name is Roberta Morgan, my call sign is Memphis Belle, my bomber model is the B-17F Flying Fortress, my familiar is the red fox, and my ability is Firestorm: an ability that allows me to burn through any geological matter with a powerful incendiary blast. It can be used in burst form, or like a flamethrower."

"Very good. You in the blue, you're next."

The brunette girl stood up, rather slowly. She looked very fragile, as the edges of her blue dress fluttered in the breeze, and her white summer hat tried to escape now and then. "Y-yes ma'am... My name is Esther Morgan, my assigned call sign is Windy City, my bomber model is also the B-17F Flying Fortress, my familiar is the arctic fox, and my ability is Downdraft: an ability that allows me to cause and control sudden, extremely violent wind currents. This includes hurricanes, tornadoes, extreme turbulence, violent downdrafts, and usage of jet streams to decrease travel time."

"Interesting… Next, you with the glasses."

Without even bothering to stand up, Pauline sat there in her A2 jacket, and began talking like she was bored and didn't want to be there. "Pauline Tibbets, B-29H bomber model, familiar is Fennec fox, and my Talvisota ability allows me to mass freeze organic and non-organic matter. Effective range is 1.8 kilometers in any given direction, and the attack can be used directly like a ray gun, or similar to a spherical bursting explosion of snow and ice."

"You forgot your call sign."

Pauline remained silent, so quiet that the wind could be heard whistling as it blew through the room.

"Pauline, your call sign. We promise we won't laugh."

Pauline's voice became very soft and quiet all of a sudden. "Enola Gay."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

At that moment, something overtook the young girl, as she stood up and yelled, "I said Enola Gay! Now laugh, laugh just like everyone else who hears my call sign over the radio, I can take it!"

A general silence fell over the room, as everyone took on a more worried expression.

Jamie sighed, and spoke to her in a motherly sort of tone. "Pauline, nobody's going to laugh. We're all friends here, we're sisters in arms. We're not going to laugh at or judge you just because of your name or call sign."

Pauline tried to hold back the tears, as Jamie sighed and selected another girl from the room. Thelma lightly hugged Pauline, attempting to comfort her.

"Right… Next, you with the maroon bikini and the lily.

This next girl was quite the sight. Sam, as she was often called, was quite a mature young lady with a uniquely styled maroon bikini, and a white lily adorning her long, strawberry blonde hair. "Understood. My name is Samantha Laddon, my call sign is Miss Pick Up, my bomber unit is the good ol' PBY-5a Catalina, familiar is the adorable sandpiper, and my ability is Zenith Eye: an ability that allows me to utilize long range radar, sonar detectors, enhanced visual abilities, and enhanced hearing."

"That's an ability?" Jamie responded in a challenging voice. "Prove it."

"There's a formation of Supermarine Seafires about to fly over the base. From what I can hear, the sound is increasing from a northern direction about one kilometer out going south, suggesting they are heading towards the channel to be transferred onto a carrier."

Jamie opened her mouth to speak, but just then, a flight of three Supermarine Seafires roared into audible range and flew right over the building.

The commander was quite flabbergasted by this. "Um… Impressive. Next… You in the yellow.

Thelma then stood up, her canary yellow dress brightening up the room. "Thelma Cartwright, my call sign is Lonesome Lady, my bomber model is the B-24J Liberator, my familiar is the mongoose, and my ability is Azon: an ability that allows the user to control radio guided bombs, torpedoes, and television-guided missiles."

"Interesting. Next? Let's see... Blonde with the red swimsuit."

Without a second to spare, the young girl jumped up and started talking, as some of the others stared at her skin-tight red swimsuit, dark leg tights, and her long blonde hair. A couple of jealous looks were thrown at her, as the outfit hugged every curvy inch of her buxom body. "Alice Godlasky, better known as Aluminum Overcast. My bomber units are the illustrious B-17G's with polished aluminum finish, my familiar is the golden retriever, and my ability is Thunderstruck. As the name might suggest, it allows me to control thunderstorms, and create massive electrical shocks over a wide area. For example, one time I overloaded the power grid when I was doing a demonstration in the academy back in Wisconsin."

"Ok that'll do, Thunderhead. Alright… You're the last one, cowgirl. Let's wrap this up.

The eighth and last girl to introduce herself was undeniably a cowgirl from Texas. Her telltale white cowgirl hat and boots, combined with her western style top said it all. "Abigail Kennedy, call-sign Texas Raiders, also a user of the lovely B-17G. My familiar is the mockingbird, a fitting one since it's the state bird of my beloved Texas. As you've already witnessed, my ability is Facade, which allows me to create visual illusions to confuse enemies. Including but not limited to: landscape mirages, optical camouflage, disguises, and holographic clones."

"Can you can make holograms of Neuroi?" Jamie inquired.

"Why sure enough, Miss Doolittle, shouldn't be a problem for me." Abigail replied pridefully.

"Then you're going to provide the targets for when we begin target practices." Jamie instructed.

"Eh? That sounds so boring though…" Abigail muttered to herself.

"You can sit down now. And lastly, I'm Jamie Doolittle, call sign Barbie III. I use the B-25H Mitchell bomber units. As you can see, my familiar is the hawk, and my ability is Intuition, which allows me to use previous battle experience and limited foresight to create enhanced combat methods and strategies. I can project them holographically for other people to see. In addition, unlike most of you girls with your .50 cals, I use the 75mm T13E1 cannon."

"So now that we're all acquainted," Samantha spoke up, "When do we start?"

"I'm glad you asked, we leave in an hour. If we don't, it'll be too dark by the time we get home. I expect you all to be ready to go at a moment's notice. Understood?" Jamie commanded.

There was a general acknowledgement as they all stood at attention and saluted her. After a few seconds of looking around the room, Jamie imperatively said, "Dismissed!" and they dispersed to their battle stations.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Rain of Death**

RAF High Wycombe, 8th JSF hangar.

The eight young witches were waiting in the hangar as Lt. Col. Jamie Doolittle walked in with her 75mm T13E1 over her shoulder. "Ok ladies, I know this is our first raid, but I want to lay down some simple rules. First off, split up into groups of two, this way you each have a wingman to cover you. Secondly, when we reach the target we will only have a ten minute window to sight in and use our bomb strikes. If we hit too early we might miss, if we're too late we'll overshoot the target. We need to hit all at the same time, in order to break that bunker. Understood?"

Without missing a beat, they made affirmative responses, and saluted her.

"Alright then, get your equipment, get your wingman, and rendezvous in five minutes on the hold short line. Samantha, you're with me." Jamie declared.

"Sure thing chief." Samantha nodded as she climbed into her blue PBY-5 Catalina units.

Roberta looked over at her sister. "C'mon Esther, you're with me, right?"

"Sure thing sis…" The girl in blue responded with a faint smile.

Pauline shot a challenging look at her fellow demolition expert. "Thelma, let's do this together."

"Anything you say honeybun~!" Thelma replied.

Alice glanced around, seeing that everyone had already found their pair. But she wasn't alone, as she soon noticed the Texan in the same position as her. She walked over to the mischievous cowgirl. "Looks like we're the last ones Abigail."

"Reckon so. Let's go knock their socks off, and show them what a couple of rooks can do!" Abigail replied cheerfully.

The eight witches jumped into their bomber units, and began taxiing out of the hangar. Outside of their building, the wind was stirred and churned by the propellers of B-17's, B-24's, and Lancasters oh my. The roaring engine sounds were deafening, but each of the girls wore in-ear communication pieces with microphones and audio receivers, for communication even in the fiercest of battles. They hovered a few inches off the ground, following taxiways as the heavy bombers roared about them, with the crew members cheering for the 8th JSF. After reaching the hold short line and receiving takeoff clearance, they began to take off in pairs. Jamie and Samantha lead the way as they roared into the sky, followed by the rest of the 8th. Several officers and soldiers watched them as they flew off, and the mechanics cheered as they sat atop the B-17 fuselages. But as they got further out, the eight girls disappeared from view, and work continued on the battered metal machines.

Several hours later, they were almost across the channel, and could just barely see the coast of Karlsland. The land had become so dark ever since the war began, partially because of the Neuroi, and partially because every day had overcast weather that was comparable to pea soup. As they scanned the horizon, nobody could see anything for miles and miles around. Samantha was different though, as she used her abilities to listen closely for something. It took some time, but then she heard the sound she was looking for. A very slight buzzing noise. An aerial disturbance. An engine, then multiple engine noises. The sound of a Neuroi formation cruising through the sky. Jamie flew closer, and looked on concernedly. "What is it, Sam?"

Samantha's grey-blue eyes opened, the gleam fading as she deactivated her ability. "They're coming. With that much noise, there has to be at least twenty Neuroi fighters, and possibly five more Neuroi heavy fighters."

"Got it. Thank you Samantha." She tuned her radio to the group's comm channel. "Barbie III to all units! Enemy incoming! Prepare to engage fighters!"

Upon hearing this, everyone gripped their guns a bit tighter. For the more experienced girls, it was just another milk run. For the transfers, it was the same as what they experienced in the Pacific, but with different fighter types. Unfortunately, that left Alice and Abigail with no experience, as they were fresh out of the academy. Needless to say, they were a little bit nervous. Just then, a hole appeared in the overcast clouds, and a swarm of Neuroi dove out at them. Just as Samantha predicted, there were at least twenty standard fighters and five heavy fighters which were equipped with large caliber guns. In response, the sky lit up with the flashes of fifty caliber bullets, most of them armor piercing incendiary tracer rounds. Jamie, on the other hand, had a much slower rate of fire, as she fired seventy-five millimeter high explosive rounds at the enemy. Though the enemy swarmed them from various attack angles, they were able to defend their formation together as they kept moving forward. But in all the confusion, Samantha managed to spot the submarine pen in the distance, and called it in over the radio. "Miss Pick Up to all units, the target area is ten minutes out, clear the airspace ladies!"

The Neuroi formation was critically damaged, and they began to retreat as the witches were about to enter the anti-air defense zone. Alice saw them running, and waved her fist menacingly at them. "Yeah that's right, you better run!"

"They're running with their tails between their legs!" Abigail exclaimed.

But it was the wrong time to celebrate, as a booming sound was heard. "What was that…?" Alice said worriedly as the sound made itself more pronounced. Small black clouds then began to appear in front of them.

Jamie's eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening. "FLAK! Activate your shields now!" She yelled over the channel.

The girls kept flying, even as the menacing puffs drew closer and closer. Small flashes could be seen on the ground, as the Neuroi flak guns lobbed their deadly shells into the sky. By this time, they were almost on top of Elbe II, and the Neuroified concrete could be seen even from their altitude.

The communication silence held, until Jamie called out again over the radio. "Activate your bombsights. When I drop my bombs, that's the cue to drop yours as well." As she said this, a magical item appeared, as she looked through it. The device looked like a magic incarnation of the famed Norden bombsight, as she lined up the reticle with the target. The crosshairs in the reticle dragged lazily along the Elbe River, until what looked like a shielded hangar came into view. The sub pen was now on high alert, opening the blast doors and preparing to launch all submarines as the girls flew overhead. At this point, the B-17's were at their most vulnerable state of their flight. With bomb bay doors open, and bombardiers in control of the flight path, they could no longer dodge incoming fire without missing their target. The lead B-17 glanced around his window, watching the other planes in the formation. He was just in time to see his wingman take a hit right to the wing roots, shearing the control surface to pieces. He watched helplessly in horror, as the doomed plane lazily rolled over, and in the path of a friendly bomber. The two planes collided, their propellers sparking and starting a fire that ignited the bomb bay, resulting in a powerful explosion. "Lucky 7 is down, they took Desperate Journey down with them too, watch out for debris!" The flight lead warned.

"Steady… Steady…" Jamie muttered, peering through her sight. The lines dragged along the river, until a large building was in sight. The crosshairs in the bombsight lined up with the submarine pens. "DROP! DROP! DROP!" Jamie yelled, as thousand pound bombs began falling from her bay doors. Right on cue, so did everyone else's. A steady stream of bombs descended towards the target, though Pauline dropped for a much longer time since she had a higher payload capacity. Mere seconds later, hundreds of explosions occurred on the ground. Some of the bombs fell into the water and splashed harmlessly, as others struck the pen directly. The bombs penetrated the reinforced concrete, ripping it apart with tremendous velocity and destroying the core inside. Other bombs fell on the submarines inside, and either destroyed their ballast tanks or their entire cores. There was a dazzling display of light as the main facility core disintegrated, and the explosion created several waves that rippled across the river's surface.

The smoke and ash drifted up from the river's edge and into the stratosphere; a sight that would satisfy any commander. Knowing this, Samantha pulled out a reconnaissance camera and took several still photographs of the damage, just in case anyone doubted them. Jamie let out a deep breath, and it could be heard over the radio. "Mission accomplished. Let's go home, ladies." There was a loud cheer, as they joyously flew back across the channel.

Several hours later, they were greeted by the white cliffs of Dover. To some, it was not of much significance, after all they were just deposits of chalk. But to many bomber crews, after being out on a mission for hours and hours, seeing those white cliffs meant home and safety. As they lowered their altitude and continued flying, the Brittanian countryside could be seen clearly. They passed over the wheat fields, where farmers toiled all day and tended to their crops. Then they passed Pinetree, which was one of the academies for aspiring Bomber Witches. At long last, the runways of High Wycombe came into view, and they were greeted by a throng of excited bomber crews and mechanics as they touched down on the tarmac. Samantha actually had to shoo some of them away, so that they wouldn't get their foot cut off by the magic engine's blades.

Making their way down the taxiways, they reached the hangar, where the commander awaited them. He stood there in the doorway, calmly drinking a cup of tea. Normally he wouldn't drink tea, being native to Liberion, but Brittania can change you if you're there long enough. "Ladies." He said, acknowledging their presence as they entered.

"Commander, what an honored surprise. If I may, what brings you to the 8th JSF today?" Jamie inquired of him.

"I take it Elbe II is destroyed?" He looked at them under the brim of his hat.

"Absolutely, sir." Jamie looked over her shoulder at Samantha, who handed the photographs to her. "Samantha took these just after we hit the target." She handed them to the commander.

"Hmm... Well that's good." He said, looking through the photographs. "Don't get too comfortable though, we're going to need you for the next campaign starting soon."

"We're more than up to the task, sir. The Bomber Witches will always get through." Jamie replied assuredly.

"I should hope so. The next operation will be a weeklong strategic bombing campaign and it will require round-the-clock strikes on significant Neuroi targets. Be ready for the briefing, and get some rest." Without another word, he left. Jamie looked at the other witches, and then led them back to the barracks for some well-deserved rest.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: A Big Week**

The very next day, everyone was up bright and early. Maintenance crews scrambled about, as they fueled up the massive B-17 fleet, and loaded munitions into the bomb bays. Roberta watched all of this as it went on, from the window of the briefing room. She suddenly noticed that the room had gone quiet, except for the quiet tapping of a foot against the floor. Turning her head, she saw everyone staring at her, including Jamie, who looked quite exasperated. "Please pay attention Roberta, this is a very important briefing." The leader sighed.

"My apologies ma'am." Roberta said, blushing a little bit from embarrassment.

Jamie continued the briefing, but Roberta kept glancing out the window every now and then, casting a worried look upon the bomber crews. She knew that she was lucky to be in her position: a young, beautiful bomber witch with the power to do what was right. But what about the crews? They were just humans, and at the end of the day, it was highly likely that they would not come back alive.

"...and always do your best." Jamie concluded, as Roberta started to pay attention again. "So without further ado, I've received the orders from RAF High Command. Our target today is Stuttgart, and we need to give it our all if we want to make this happen. Now, I want you to have a look at our target for today…" Jamie activated her Intuition skill, projecting a three-dimensional model of the city, the Neuroi fortress, and the anti-air defenses that protected it. "This is the Neuroi fortress in Stuttgart. The Allied bombing raids have been hitting it for days now, but it hasn't taken any considerable damage. This is due to the fact that the Flying Fortresses are extremely vulnerable to those fast moving light fighters that the Neuroi have. The big ones they can handle, but the light ones just weave in between the formations, obliterating everything in sight."

Pauline slowly raised her hand, and Jamie stopped to listen attentively. "What's going to stop them from doing that to us?"

"Well, we're going to be using a very tight defensive formation. Plus, as witches we have shields. So here's our basic plan: Thelma, we'll be needing your precision Azon attacks to disable the Pragsattel Flakturm, which was captured three weeks ago by the Neuroi ground forces. This will help reduce the incoming fire, so that we can hit the fortress. You don't need to hug the ground or anything, just silence the captured anti-aircraft tower before we arrive."

"Understood, ma'am." Thelma replied.

"Well, if you're going in first to take out the AA tower, it means you'll need to be on radio silence for a while. Once it's out of commission, rejoin the formation, and we'll cover you." Pauline noted.

"Sounds good to me!" Thelma smiled.

"That's what I like to hear. Now then, the rest of you, just do what you normally do. Shoot down the incoming fighters, and bomb out the target. Understood?" Jamie asked, as the girls stood and saluted her in response. "Alright, gear up. We leave in twenty minutes. Don't worry about the other bomber crews, they're off to suppress the fortress in Bremen. That's the big one, and we'll be hitting it later on in the week."

"Oh joy…" Pauline rolled her eyes. "We may as well just go straight for Berlin…"

"Hey, it's not the best job in the world, but someone's gotta do it. Somebody has to hit the industries, because if we can do that, it means less enemy units on the front lines." Jamie reprimanded.

As they all walked out onto the aerodrome, one of the bombers caught Roberta's attention. It was a standard B-17, with a yellow paint scheme on the vertical stabilizer. She caught a glimpse of a young man about eighteen years old working on the ball turret of the bomber, and for some reason she thought he looked familiar. Eventually she found herself walking over to go talk to the airman. As she approached, the young man looked up and noticed her, but as he set his tools down and stood up, his head struck the fuselage. He blacked out and fell to the ground as Roberta rushed over to help him. About one minute later, he could faintly hear a girl's voice.

"Sir… Sir! Are you alright?" Roberta called out to him.

The man blinked slowly, and then looked up into her beautiful emerald green eyes. He winced in pain, and then rubbed his sore head.

"Oh thank goodness you're ok." Roberta breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, glad you're ok. Now you can help out by fixing that dent, ya klutz." One of the disgruntled mechanics muttered.

"Sorry you had to see that. I tend to be a bit clumsy sometimes." The young man said hesitantly.

"It happens to all of us. Here, let me help you up." Roberta said, extending her arm to him. She tried to lift him up, but he was still disoriented and wobbled as he gradually stood up.

"Thanks. My name's Chris, I'm the ball gunner on this B-17, the Sally B." He said, patting the fuselage.

"No problem! I'm Roberta, just a friendly bomber witch." Roberta smiled.

"A bomber witch, huh… Sounds like a pretty decent job." Chris said thoughtfully.

"More or less. Also, are you aware that the lady on your bomber's nose is absolutely naked?" Roberta said, pointing at the nose art and blushing a little.

"Aah… I had nothing to do with that." Chris replied, scratching his head nervously. "Unanimous decisions are inevitable when the whole crew is drunk at the bar."

"I see. Seems like many of the young men here are like that, or so I've been told." Roberta said cheerily.

"Yeah, when the government entitles you to a few bottles and such without caring about your age, it's easy to get into the habit. I barely touched mine though, the stuff they have here doesn't agree with my stomach." Chris said shyly. "So, what's your call sign?"

"Memphis Belle-" Roberta was immediately interrupted, as Chris' eyes grew wide in realization of the girl who stood before him. "Wait… T-THE Memphis Belle?" He stammered.

"Why yes, but-" Roberta said, before she was cut off again.

"You're one of the most popular witches in the entire European theatre!" Chris exclaimed.

"I wouldn't say that…" Roberta blushed a little bit.

"I- I didn't mean it like that, I mean if it's too embarrassing for you…" Chris apologized.

"No, I don't mind. It's not often somebody praises me like that without begging for an autograph or still photograph or something." Roberta replied cheerfully.

Meanwhile, Jamie walked out of the briefing room, and noticed the rest of Chris' crew casting jealous glares upon him and Roberta. "Oi, Roberta!" Jamie said in an annoyed tone.

"Y-yes ma'am?!" Roberta responded.

"You got ten minutes to get your stuff together, otherwise we'll have to leave without you. Gear up, we need all the help we can get." Jamie jerked her thumb to the hangar.

Roberta was about to object, but she thought it wiser to hold her tongue on that matter. "Alright. So Chris, um, will I see you again?"

"Why so serious? There's a very good chance we'll meet again, whether it be in the blue sky, or on the ground." Chris smiled.

"Ok. I'll see you later! Bye!" Roberta waved as she ran off to the hangar, and Chris just sighed wistfully as he leaned on the bomber's fuselage. But then the crew chief came up and warded him off as they concluded maintenance and refueling of the Sally B.

Meanwhile, Roberta scrambled to get her bomber units on as the other bomber witches were beginning launch sequence. She started them up, and loaded her Browning M2 as the weather reports for Stuttgart were read aloud over the PA system. The Brittanian voice read the report monotonously, indistinct amongst the girls chatter and the roar of engines.

"Hurry up Roberta, we can't be left behind." Esther called out as she headed out of the hangar.

"Right. Here we go!" Roberta said as the Wright Cyclone engines roared to life and she taxied out to the other girls.

Jamie was at the head of the formation, and as she looked up into the tower, the controller gave her a thumbs up. "All bomber witches cleared to launch, let's go go go ladies!"

The eight witches zoomed out of the hangar, one right after the other, and the bomber crews watched from their planes as they taxied on the runway. The maintenance crews looked up and waved goodbye to them, as they roared into the sky, slowly fading from view.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: A Tough Nut to Crack**

Thelma flew over occupied Karlsland, scanning the land and sky for any sign of the Neuroi. The rest of the witches were high in the sky, delaying their arrival until the tower was suppressed. As Thelma watched the ground, a large tower soon came into view. It looked like a normal building at first, but upon closer inspection it was a cylindrical tower made of reinforced concrete. But after being captured by the Neuroi, they had turned it into a blackened, alien-like object that was bristling with laser type weapons and captured flak guns. "So, that's Pragsattel Flakturm… or, what's left of it anyways." Thelma muttered. She flew a bit lower to avoid the clouds, but upon reestablishing visibility, a sentry on the ground spotted her. It was too late to react and destroy it, so she kept flying at full speed. It was then that the tower began to light up like a Christmas tree. The combination of captured flak guns and lasers was deadly enough at long range, but at short range it would be devastating. Time seemed to slow down, as the flak bursted around her, and her shield absorbed incoming laser fire. The shield allowed her to get within a suitable firing range, as she shouted, "Azon!" Instantly, four TV-guided missiles dropped from her B-24J units, and she mentally guided them towards the tower. Because they were controlled by a human mind and not an AI, the Neuroi could not easily predict their flight path. One of the missiles was shot down, but the other three slammed into the tower, hitting the gun stations up at the top. Thelma was not satisfied however, thinking that the guns were still operational and could pose a threat. Raising her altitude slightly, she used Azon again, and two bombs with guidance flares on the ends appeared underneath her. This was the most basic form of Azon, where the bombs had remotely controlled fins and a flare so you could see where it was going. The bombs traveled towards the tower, with enough of an arc that they sailed through the vision slits and detonated inside the building. Several ammunition storages in the weapon room exploded, creating a cloud of fire and smoke that could be seen for miles. This was also the attack signal, as the rest of the bomber witches began approaching Stuttgart, and Thelma began climbing up to join them.

As she rejoined formation, Jamie looked over and nodded. "Good work Thelma."

Thelma laughed a little bit. "Don't thank me yet, we still have a job to do."

"Right. You heard her ladies, onwards to Stuttgart!" Jamie ordered.

"Will it really be ok?" Esther said worriedly.

"The tower? No worries. We never planned to destroy it, that's not what we came here for. We just silenced the guns temporarily to get them off of our case." Jamie responded.

"I guess that makes sense. It would make for an easier trip home." Esther concluded.

Meanwhile, Samantha was flying on instinct, as she searched for the enemy. She mentally broadcasted signals, waiting for a wave to ping back in response. The concept was similar to early radar technology, and eventually there were several ping responses. Fighters were coming.

"Anything?" Jamie asked her.

"Thirty-five contacts closing from the southeast. Additional contacts approaching from the southwest, fifteen large ones. Probably heavy fighters." Samantha responded.

"These guys don't know when to quit..." Jamie muttered. "Alright ladies, listen up! Incoming fighters coming in from the southeast, and heavies coming in from the southwest! Shoot them down, and maintain air superiority, got it?"

Various affirmation calls were heard over the radio, most of them indistinct, as each of the girls readied their guns. There was silence, save for their radial engine bomber units, as they waited for the enemy to reveal itself. Just then, an unexpected fighter appeared at twelve o'clock low, and Abigail opened up on it. The fighter knew what it was doing, however, as it dodged and ascended with enough energy to plow right through their formation, and Abigail barely nicked Alice with her bullets.

"Abby, could you please be more mindful?!" Alice said in frustration.

"I coulda sworn I had him… It's not like it did anything to you anyhow." Abby replied.

"You need to take your job seriously, you could've rendered me combat ineffective!" Alice raised her voice.

"Do NOT yell over comms. If I hear you screaming, it better be because you're actually in trouble." Jamie reprimanded them. "That little guy was just a distraction, here comes the main force."

The enemy formation closed on them from the southeast and southwest, catching the witches in a crossfire. The sky was soon filled with incendiary tracer rounds from .50 caliber heavy machine guns, and lasers from the enemy fighters. Samantha was counting down the number of remaining targets, when suddenly the heavy fighters appeared. They were a nasty group, armed with more powerful cannons and much thicker armor than the other Neuroi. Shields were relevant against the smaller Neuroi, but heavy cannon fire from the larger fighters could break a witch's shield if given the chance. But as the bulky Neuroi came closer, they got distracted by a group of Karlsland fighter patrols that had wandered off to assist the witches. The flight lead signaled to Jamie that their group would lead the enemy away so the witches could continue their mission. Though painful the decision was, Jamie nodded and the 109 pilot saluted while they peeled away, with the Neuroi in pursuit. There was silence the rest of the way to the target, save for the drop point and the return to base order.

Upon returning to Wycombe, Roberta was visibly upset about what had happened that day, and after the debriefing she went to go find Jamie in her room. Jamie was looking over documents at her desk, when Roberta entered the room and shut the door behind her.

"Lt. Morgan. To what do I owe this visit?" Jamie did not look up, knowing full well why Roberta was before her.

"I think you know exactly what I'm going to say." Roberta tilted her head slightly.

"If it's about the Karlsland fighters, it was their decision to-" Jamie began, but she was cut off.

"No." Roberta said, fighting back the tears.

"Excuse me?" Jamie looked up at her.

"We're supposed to help people, and how can we do that if we can't even help ourselves?! It's our job, and ours alone. Nobody else's!" The red-headed girl cried out.

"Now listen here-" Jamie began.

"The battle reports just came in, and did you even read them? Those pilots were brutally murdered in their planes, and couldn't do anything about it. All because of some stupid order!" Roberta screamed.

"That's enough Roberta!" Jamie stood up, slamming her fist on the desk. Roberta stood at attention, visibly intimidated by Jamie at this point. "You think I wanted to let those men die?" Jamie asked, walking around her and stopping in front of the window. "You think I'm some kind of cruel person who wants to just sacrifice human lives for the sake of an objective? A general once told me something that changed the way I thought about war. He told me, 'Jamie, in war, generals need to buy things. In order to buy things in war, it costs a certain amount of human lives. Each day, I have to decide how many men I want to kill today to gain bases, resources, territory, etc. But do not think for one moment that I enjoy signing off young lives to go and die on a battlefield, just to achieve my goal. It's not a pleasant job, but someone has to do it.' I didn't want to just let them be killed, but I also value my girls, more than anything else. They willingly gave their lives so you could live. So don't mourn for them, wipe your tears and keep fighting."

"Yes ma'am." Roberta replied calmly.

"You may leave." Jamie said imperatively.

Roberta walked out, still rather saddened by this turn of events. Disagreeing wouldn't help though, since in war, actions are stronger than words. Trying to forget about it, she remembered Chris, and went to go find him. She walked across the aerodrome, and passed the mess hall, where the lights were still on. Upon closer inspection, inside the room were hundreds of airmen dancing with girls from the town, and drinking like there was no tomorrow as a band played lively tunes. Suddenly, she felt someone tap on her shoulder, and whirled around to see a familiar face.

"Whoa, didn't mean to scare you there." Chris smiled.

"Oh, good to see you again Chris. What's all this about?" Roberta gestured to the party.

"That? Well, every once in a while we have a party, invite some of the towns best girls, truck in some drinks, call in a band, and just have a good time."

"Why? I mean, I don't quite understand, what is there to celebrate? There's a freaking war going on."

"Nothing really, but it tends to be good for crew morale. Livens them up a bit, and helps them to relax. Otherwise they'd probably be in their rooms, thinking about gunfire, experiencing war trauma, and reliving horrible events that they've witnessed."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Say, Roberta?" Chris began, but as she looked at him steadily, he suddenly became entranced by her lovely eyes once more. Shaking his head for a moment, he then extended his hand in an invitational gesture. "W-would you care to dance?"

Roberta looked over her shoulder, just to affirm that he wasn't talking to someone else behind her. His hand was a little sweaty, but she held it anyways. "I'd love to." she said, as they walked into the hall. The doors opened, and Chris' buddies cheered when they saw him enter the room. But as soon as Roberta was spotted, there were many wolf whistles coming from the guys in the room. Indeed there were many beautiful women from the local area, but none of them were redheads, and none of them could quite match Roberta's luster.

"Are you sure this is ok?" Roberta whispered nervously.

"Don't worry. If worst comes to worst, I'll protect you." Chris smiled.

Roberta's face lit up a bit, as they picked a spot in the room, and began dancing to a rather jazzy tune. She smiled, and even laughed, as Chris' lack of dancing experience began to show, and he laughed nervously as well. Several songs passed, going from jazz, to big band, and traditional songs too.

About one hour later, the base commander showed up and crashed the party, telling everyone to go back to their barracks. Chris walked Roberta back to her room, however, they stopped outside the door, and it appeared he had something to say.

"I had fun tonight. You're a lovely young girl, you know that?"

"Oh, don't say things like that... My roommates might hear you and tease me that I have a boyfriend or something…"

"Is that a bad thing?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's just... Well... It's a girl thing."

"I see. Well then, I bid you good night, wouldn't want to cause trouble for you. It's been a pleasure, Miss Roberta."

But as he walked away, Roberta twiddled her fingers a little, and blushed, before running after him. "Chris, wait!"

He turned around, just as the young girl stood kissed him on the cheek.

"Good night, I had a great time tonight Chris." Roberta smiled, going back towards her room.

Giggling playfully, she ran off to her room before he could respond. But it was for the better that she walked away, for his face flushed bright red as he stumbled across the aerodrome to his barracks. He wasn't drunk, but love can do strange things to a person.

Upon entering the room, Roberta was surprised to see Esther sound asleep on her adjacent bed. Or so she thought, for as Roberta lay down on her own bed, Esther noticed and whispered, "Smooth move." Instead of being embarrassed, Roberta took it as a compliment and happily fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Storm over Essen**

At about noon the next day, the Bomber Witches were briefed that they would be striking the captured Krupp factory in Essen. They would be flying alongside the 617th Bomb Group, a Lancaster group known as "The Dambusters" for their heroic efforts in Operation Chastise. The mission at hand was important, as the primary manufacturer of the V3 "Wasserfall" guided rocket could not be left operational. If left to the Neuroi, it would pose an extremely dangerous threat to allied operations. But nobody had accounted for the inclement weather, which would delay their mission. Just when they thought the mission was scrubbed, an order came down from the top brass to perform a night raid alongside the 617th. Night raids were dangerous, and the only member of the 8th who knew a shred about it was Pauline. For she had been part of nighttime firebombing missions in the Pacific, and was well aware of the risks. As they were preparing their equipment, Pauline was talking to the group in the hangar.

"Alright." Pauline let out a deep breath. "Now I know many of you do not have experience in night raids, so with Jamie's permission, I'd like to lead this one."

Jamie nodded her head in approval, and Pauline began to hand out smoke flares to Abigail and Alice.

Alice had a confused look on her face, as she asked, "What are these for?"

"An excellent question." Pauline answered. "Despite the fact that Brittania and Liberion are allies, the Avro Lancaster is not equipped with the helpful Norden bombsight made in Liberion. Having said that, how much harder do you think it is to hit a target at night with any kind of precision?"

Alice was still confused. "What does that have to do with flares?"

"Another excellent question. I want you and Abigail to fly into Essen at low altitude, mark the target factory with flares, and then return to formation. Once that's done, we'll strike from above. Simple enough?" Pauline smiled.

"Sounds easier said than done." Abigail said with a doubtful tone. "It's hard enough to fly treetop level, but when you factor in the shroud of nighttime…"

"Listen girls, I believe in you. I know you have what it takes, not just to meet our expectations, but to exceed our expectations. Remember our motto: The Bomber Witches will always get through." Jamie stated.

"Yes, but… Why do we have to do it?" Alice whined slightly.

Pauline put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Alice, Abigail, I would not choose you for this job if I thought you weren't capable of getting it done. I know you two will make me proud. Now then, the 617th is beginning Minimum Interval Take Off procedures, so we'd better get going. Abigail and Alice are the pathfinders and will paint the target for us. Everyone else, just do what you normally do."

The two rookies looked at each other, knowing full well how dangerous this mission would be, before getting their equipment together. They joined the group on the hold short line, as a massive Brittanian heavy bomber roared down the runway. Right after it had cleared the runway, Pauline radioed in for the group's takeoff clearance. "This is… Enola Gay. Requesting takeoff clearance for the 8th JSF."

A few seconds passed, until the controller's voice came back over the headset. "Wycombe tower to 8th JSF... You are cleared for takeoff."

Lining up on the runway, Pauline revved her B-29 strikers, and roared down the runway with Jamie and the others close behind. They ascended up into the cloud layer, gaining altitude at a gradual pace, before Samantha's voice came over a private line to Pauline. "You did good Pauly. Even if the controller was laughing his ass off over there in the tower."

"I knew it… He never does that to Jamie, only me. Why? I'm pretty sure it has to do with my call sign..." Pauline frowned in disgust.

"Don't let it get you down. We have a job to do." Samantha said warmly as the radio crackled a little bit.

"Thanks Sam." Pauline then switched back to the open channel. "Ok girls, engage turbo superchargers, we're going higher. Alice and Abigail, we'll see you at Essen."

"Roger." The two girls responded as the group climbed higher into the stratosphere.

Several hours later, Abigail and Alice were flying at low altitude towards Essen, flares in hand.

"Target factory is nearby, the fact that it's dark is making this even more difficult though..." Alice calmly said over the radio.

"I told you to wait so I could send in a decoy for recon, but noooo..." Abigail nagged. "Ms. Thunderhead has to be so stubborn."

"Hey, quit that. I didn't ask to be on this mission with you." Alice snapped.

"Aw come on now, don't get mad all of a sudden ya silly. Lighten up." Abigail giggled in a teasing sort of way.

Alice's face began to redden. "Abigail, for once in your life could you just be serious…"

Abigail cut her off abruptly, making a shushing sound. "I thought I saw some red lights in the distance, maybe it was just my imagination..."

"Abigail, now is not the time to mess with my mind. Don't do this to me, we have a job to do."

Abigail began to look around frantically. "No, I swear, I-"

Alice was looking away, slightly ignoring her, just as Abigail was snatched up by several Neuroi parasite fighters, who attempted to carry her away.

"Abigail, how close are we to th-" Just as she turned around, the Neuroi shrieked at her, as Abigail furiously struggled to break free of their grip. When Alice saw the parasite Neuroi all over Abigail, she was overtaken by shock.

"Get offa me you bastards!" Abigail yelled in frustration. "Alice! Go! Go on without me, they need you!"

"No, nobody gets left behind, not on my watch." Alice firmly stated, a bolt of static electricity rippling through her blonde hair.

Abigail smiled warmly and said, "So we're doing 'that' again, huh?"

"You guessed right." As she said this, Alice was surrounded by a yellow aura, and dark thunderclouds crowded the sky above her. Thunder began to roll, and lightning bolts jumped eagerly from cloud to cloud. Then as the Neuroi began to attack, Alice was struck by 20,000 volts of electricity, and she became the conductor for a gigantic lightning bolt which struck her foe with a tremendous crackling sound. Abigail fell away from their grip, her hair electrified, and picked up her flares as she raced towards Alice.

Alice threw a gun to her, and they began pelting the Neuroi with fifty caliber machine gun fire. Abigail activated her Facade ability, creating hundreds of clones of her and Alice. The Neuroi were successfully confused by this strange combat method, and they became confused and disoriented as their numbers dwindled quickly.

Alice then made a gesture similar to an air guitar, as she charged her attack once more. As she unleashed the fury of the storm she smiled mischievously and said, "You've been... THUNDERSTRUCK!" as the lightning surged toward the Neuroi and obliterated them completely. She then thundered toward Essen, the storm clouds slowly dissipating as they left. Upon reaching the factory, they dumped their flares all around the perimeter, dodging the AA fire from the watch towers. As the flares burned brightly, they signaled the attack and illuminated the entire complex. The two girls started gaining some altitude, and almost ran into the other witches.

"Geez, watch it. You better have a good excuse for why you're so late…" Pauline paused for a second, eyeing Abigail's frizzy hair. "Abigail, what happened to your hair?"

"Long story, let's just bomb this thing and go home." Abigail said, in a rather frayed manner.

"A-alright then..." Pauline swept her hair back a little. "Attention all units of the 8th JSF and the 617th Lancaster Bomb Group, we're nearing the drop point."

The pilot of the lead Lancaster responded, "Roger that. All aircraft, open bomb bay doors." The Lancasters opened up their humongous bay doors, revealing a variety of 4,000lb HE bombs, 500lb bombs, 100lb incendiaries, and 1000lb bombs. The loadout varied from plane to plane but it didn't matter, as they were all going to the same target. Pauline counted to ten over the radio before calling the drop. Then there was a loud whistling as thousands of pounds of explosives hurtled to earth, exploding on the surface and illuminating the ground with fire. "Dropped the pickle right in the barrel." A pilot remarked, as they pulled on their flight yokes, and the planes began slowly turning back towards Britannia. But the Neuroi were not going to let them go, and in retaliation, the fifteen remaining fighters began a counterattack. Due to the formation turning around, the lead was unaware of the situation until he saw a plane falling to earth like a blazing meteor. Another one under attack, but Pauline positioned herself in front of the bomber, shielding it and returning fire. The amount of Neuroi was reduced to five fighters, who decided to abandon the attack. Thelma fired a missile or two with her Azon attack, just to be sure they would not come back. As the heavy bombers limped back across the channel, they wondered what they would ever have done without the witches.

"This is the captain of the 'Thumper.' Damn shame we couldn't save those other bombers, but thank you for your assistance, ladies. We were able to limit casualties to a bare minimum."

Later that night, this same message was relayed to the commander, who decided to give the girls a small reward as a token of gratitude. All of their guns had their barrels replaced with new ones, and their strikers received engine overhauls. In addition, arrangements were made to add new water heaters in their facilities, to accommodate their new hot tub area, which was well received and put to good use.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Just an Average Milk Run**

The next morning was very quiet on the aerodrome. The witches of the 8th sat in the briefing room, wondering why none of the bombers were prepping for takeoff yet. As murmurs began to creep around the room, Jamie walked in with a dossier and stepped up to the podium. "Alright ladies, before we get started, does anyone have any questions?"

Roberta raised her hand. "Where are all the bomber crews?"

"They aren't needed for this mission, they're preparing for a follow up night raid on Stuttgart." Jamie answered

"Stuttgart?" Pauline asked confusedly. "We were just there a few days ago…"

Jamie crossed her arms and sighed. "Yeah, well it turns out we didn't get all of them, and they've regrouped further into the city, so another group is going back to clean everything up."

"Heh. The Neuroi are a little smarter than I imagined…" Samantha concluded.

Jamie fixed her attention on Samantha, casting a curious stare at her. "How's that?"

"If the media gets word that we're bombing this close to civilian areas, we could have several nasty riots on our hands, scrutinizing the bombing campaigns. That'll bog down the war effort considerably."

"I just receive the orders and follow them. They didn't hire me to ask questions about my directives." Jamie sighed.

"But that doesn't mean we can't think for ourselves. We have brains too…" Samantha protested.

Jamie was clearly getting frustrated at this point, due to the stressful aspect of her job. "Can we save this for another time girls? Those Neuroi aren't going to just surrender on their own."

Upon reaching this consensus, the room quieted down as Jamie opened her top secret documents and began explaining the mission. Several curious eyes were trained on Jamie as she read the target and began pulling up a hologram with her Intuition ability. "Today, we're going to Hamburg, ladies." There was a general sigh of relief upon hearing this, as Hamburg had been putting up minimal resistance lately. "Alright, this should just be an average milk run, but don't let your guard down even for a second. The Neuroi are craftier than you think, do not underestimate them. Get to your stations for pre-flight. Dismissed!"

The girls stood at attention, until Jamie walked off the stage. They filed out of the room, and Samantha was close on Jamie's heels as they walked across the aerodrome. It was a quiet, rainy day at High Wycombe, as the bombers were out on their mission. The maintenance crews continued work on damaged birds, while the commanders sat in the war room, awaiting battle reports. On a day like this, the girls would have to do maintenance themselves, since the mechanics were all occupied. As they began doing pre-flight maintenance on their bomber units, Esther noticed that her right engine was having hiccups. But she figured as long as it started and held together it would be fine. The witches lined up and began takeoff sequence, slowly disappearing into the rainy skies of Britannia.

Several hours later, the 8th had made it to the outskirts of Hamburg's airspace. It was very quiet though, and everyone was already feeling on edge because of the thick clouds. Jamie noticed Samantha frowning as she listened to the radar.

"Hey, something wrong?" Jamie inquired, flying closer.

"Lieutenant Colonel Doolittle." Samantha said, somewhat startled. "No, I'm just confused by the lack of activity in this area."

"It'll be fine. Hamburg is just supposed to be a milk run anyways, it's not that big a deal." Jamie said reassuringly.

"Even so..." Samantha objected, and pulled up her radar screen. "Ok, we're five miles into Hamburg's airspace, and still nothing."

"Well this cloud cover isn't making it any easier either…" Jamie grumbled.

As they flew on, the clouds grew darker and darker. There was confusion as everyone exchanged worrisome glances, but they kept pushing on despite the uncertainty. Then there were strange noises coming from an indiscernible direction.

"These readings…" Samantha said, as she scanned the area. "Looks like a Neuroi signature, but I can't tell where it's coming from...

All of a sudden, the sky lit up with laser shots, as the witches were caught in a crossfire.

"Dammit! Did we fly into a hive or something?!" Jamie shouted.

"Can't be, there aren't supposed to be any hives in this area!" Samantha's voice quivered with uncertainty.

Jamie growled quietly to herself. "Samantha, locate the nucleus! Everyone else stay together!" Suddenly, she noticed Roberta and Esther were trailing slightly to the formation's 7 o'clock. "Barbie III to Memphis Belle and Windy City. Get over here you two!"

"Roger that!" Roberta responded.

"Copy that…" Esther responded, just barely over the crossfire.

But as they flew back towards the formation, a giant Neuroi lashed out at them from the dark clouds. Samantha tried to identify it as they blindly opened fire through the opaque shroud, but suddenly Esther took a hit to her right engine. It held together for a second, then sputtered and caught fire.

Roberta shielded her eyes, then stared in horror as her sister's engine was engulfed in flame. "Esther! Use your fire suppression equipment!"

Esther attempted to switch her suppression system on, but it was too late as the right bomber engine exploded. The weight shift threw her off balance and into a spin, as she screamed and fell through the cloud layer. Everyone watched helplessly as they kept up their attack but Roberta dove after her. She was not about to lose her sister, but Jamie yelled at her through the comm system. "Roberta! Stay with us, we have a job to do!"

"I can't leave her, this is my sister we're talking about!" Roberta cried out.

"You will be court martialed for desertion if you don't get back here right now!" Jamie ordered imperatively.

"I don't care! I'm going after her!" The red witch responded, diving through the clouds.

Jamie sighed in frustration, and tried to bury her emotions as she opened the comm channel again. "Keep firing girls. We've got to defeat the enemy here."

"What about Roberta and Esther?" Alice said, with a worried tone in her voice.

"Let them go. We're going to finish the mission objective, then we can go find them. That's an order." Jamie snapped.

The rest of the girls looked at each other worriedly, and doggedly kept on the attack. They were not as effective in this state, but they attempted to make a strike run as best they could.

Meanwhile, Esther was still falling through the air, as her life began to flash before her eyes. She began thinking about her mother, and Roberta, and home as the tears streamed along her face. Just as she had given up all hope and was ready to die, Roberta called out to her, straining her bomber units and reaching out with every fiber in her being. "Esther! Snap out of it!"

"R-Roberta?!" The girl said in surprise.

Roberta grabbed Esther and slapped her on the cheek. "Get a hold of yourself! You are not dying today, not on my watch! You hear me?!"

Roberta held Esther tightly with both arms, as she continued bawling in terror, but her bombers were simply not enough to stop their combined weight, as they crash landed in one of the deserted buildings in the square. When Esther opened her eyes, she found herself on top of Roberta, as they lay on the second floor of a city apartment. Roberta was lying unconscious, after taking the brunt of the fall.

Esther sat up, rubbing her head. "Ow… Not one of our best landings... Roberta? Roberta!"

But Roberta made no reply, as Esther tried to call out to her. She tried many methods, fanning, slapping, and shouting, but to no avail. A window was off to her side, and the dark cloud could be seen in the distance. The hive was about five miles away from Hamburg's center, and the witches were visibly fighting for their lives against the Neuroi.

"Everyone is doing their best, and yet I can't even help myself without others getting hurt…" Esther said, starting to cry a little. She turned away from the window, and began to walk out of the room, with no particular destination in mind. But before she did, she knelt down next to Roberta, and attempted one last chance to give CPR, placing her lips on Roberta's. Suddenly Roberta's eyes started to open, and they widened in shock as she noticed what Esther was doing. Esther quickly pulled away and began stammering nervously, her cheeks blushing bright red.

"U-um! This is... I mean, Roberta you're awake!" She smiled nervously.

Roberta sat up, quite dizzy in the head. "You were just giving me CPR, right…? Just like any normal person?"

"Y-yes… that's right." Esther stammered, her cheeks blushing bright red. "I'm so glad you're alive…" Esther looked away, her cheeks red. "I really thought we were both goners, and I started to remember our childhood. Especially when you climbed that really tall tree, just to get my hat… You remember that?"

Roberta smiled, and reached her hand out to hold her sister's cheek. "Of course I do. You cried and cried, just like you are now, as though that hat was part of your body."

Esther continued to blush, and looked away. Meanwhile, Roberta scanned the room, and had located Esther's favorite hat. Coming up behind her, she hummed happily. "Looking for this?" Roberta said as she set it back on Esther's head.

"Thank you…" Esther looked up and smiled.

Roberta smiled back, and helped her up. "Come on. Let's find a way to get you home. When we make it back to High Wycombe you still owe me lunch for that other time I saved you." Roberta teased.

"If we make it back, that is… H-hey! What you mean 'that other time?!' Roberta!" Esther flailed in frustration.

"I'm teasing you." Roberta laughed. "Of course we'll make it back, assuming the 8th doesn't drop any bombs on our heads."

Roberta hugged Esther, leaning on her for support, and the two girls headed outside. As the battle above the city ended, the rest of the girls were flying around in search of the two sisters. Samantha, with her enhanced visibility, saw them from afar and they all flew down towards them. Worried looks and questions were exchanged, as Roberta assured them everything was fine, and Alice and Abigail carried the two downed witches and their damaged bombers as they flew back to Wycombe.

Upon arrival, the commander looked very disappointed at them. "Did you girls get lost?" He said, taking a puff of his cigar.

Before Roberta could confess what happened, Jamie spoke up with an authoritative tone in her voice. "We never made it to the target, we ran into an uncharted aerial hive. I'll take full responsibility for any reprimands, sir."

"I guess it can't be helped…" He sighed, scratching his head. "I'll have another group go mop things up, you girls get your equipment repaired and prepare for tomorrow's raid. I take it there was heavy resistance at Hamburg?"

"Very heavy, sir." Samantha said, handing him photo reconnaissance and radar reports from the battle.

"I see. Well, get rested, you girls will provide the strike at Bremen tomorrow. Can I count on you?"

"We are the bomber witches sir." Jamie said, taking her place among the girls.

They all shouted in unison. "And the Bomber Witches will always get through!"

The girls saluted triumphantly as the Commander dismissed them and went back to his office. He simply shook his head as he took another puff from his cigar.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Bremen**

The eight witches gathered in the briefing room, with Jamie at the podium. But there was a very grave air about the room, as they contemplated their mission. Bremen was no joke, it was the most dangerous target yet, save for the capital of Karlsland, Berlin. But Berlin could not be reached yet, as the defenses from the surrounding cities and the captured flak towers at the Berlin Zoo were offering heavy resistance. Just as Jamie was looking through her folders, the recruiting officer walked in with a lovely young British girl next to him. She had luscious blonde hair with curls at the ends, wore a spotless blue uniform and hat, as black leggings wrapped tightly around her legs.

Jamie's calm nature was suddenly replaced with surprise, and in indignation. "What is the meaning of this, sir? I was just about to begin the briefing."

"I know, I know, but I have a huge favor to ask." The young man, surely no older than 20, pleaded.

"Go ahead." Jamie crossed her arms.

"First off, this is Bridget Andersen, a bomber witch from 57th RAF bomb group. She's being assigned to the 8th as of today. Now, don't take it like I'm not confident in your skills, but this is Bremen and we need all the help we can get."

"How do you do, ladies?" The Brittanian girl curtsied. "Bridget Andersen from 617th BG, RAF. My call sign is Bristol Belle, and I look forward to working with you girls." She said in a pristine Brittanian accent.

"Likewise. I'm Jamie Doolittle, the commander of the 8th." Jamie shook her hand, with a slightly hard grip. Bridget winced slightly in pain, but retained her composure. Shortly afterwards, Jamie gave a short scowl at the recruiter. She was clearly upset that the higher ups were meddling with her group without consent. But like always, she had to follow orders, even if she didn't like them. Eventually the recruiter walked out, and the group began to chat and acquaint themselves with the newcomer. After about ten minutes, Jamie clapped her hands to get their attention, and began the briefing as they sat down. "Alright girls, this is it. We're going to Bremen. I know you've heard the stories about it, and it's not a great place to be. But the raids can't sustain this many losses. Somebody has to break through, and we happen to be that somebody. If we can just last long enough to drop our bombs, we'll be heroes just for that. I've also been informed that 317st BG will accompany us on this mission. Well, we leave in ten minutes. Get your bombers ready, clean your guns, and prepare for battle. Dismissed."

Everyone stood to salute Jamie, as she dismounted the podium.

Minutes later, the girls were in the hangar, preparing their bombers and getting ready for the mission at hand. As Bridget was bent over her Lancaster bombers, two young guys from maintenance walked by the open hangar. One of them, staring at her rear, did a wolf whistle and remarked, "Wowee, look at that tail!" Bridget was clearly offended by this, and began waving a wrench at them menacingly as they ran away laughing. The others in the hangar pretended not to notice, and tried to hide their snickering. Maintenance was soon finished, and the group lined up for takeoff.

Several hours later, the formation was flying through thick clouds when Jamie called out over the radio. "Alright boys and girls, we're getting close to Bremen's airspace. I want you to stay calm, I do not want anyone to be panicking or firing wildly, ok? I know you've heard a whole bunch of rumors about Bremen, but know one thing: We are going to get in, drop the bombs, and get out. If you need assistance, do not hesitate to call a bomber witch over for cover, that's what we're here for."

Suddenly, a familiar gunner's voice came over the radio frequency. "I know who I'm callin' if I need help!" He winked at Roberta, who laughed embarrassedly, and his other crew mates joked at him, in an attempt to tease him.

"Very funny, but this is serious business we're doing." Jamie sighed. "You can't just drop your bombs wherever you want, there are civilian houses in the area. If we don't get the job done right, someone else will have to come back here and clean up our mess. I do not want to see the same results as the Stuttgart raid, understood?"

"Yes ma'am!" They replied with one accord.

"Good." Jamie said. "All crews, we are entering combat zone in two minutes. Arm your machine guns and unlock safety on your turrets. Good luck to you all, and-"

Suddenly Samantha shouted over the radio, "Three o'clock high, enemy projectile incoming!"

The lead B-24 was suddenly struck by what looked like a Neuroified V3 "Wasserfall" missile, and simultaneously flak began to fill the sky with black puffs. The comm channel was soon filled with voices of the bomber crews.

"Dammit! 'Kit's Tadger' is hit and in flames, no chutes reported!" Someone yelled.

"What the hell was that attack?!" Another radio operator cried out.

"Oh god, I feel like we're being sent to die as some kind of sacrifice!" One of the bombardiers bawled.

"This is it! It's over!" A gunner cried in terror.

"Get a grip and cut the chatter people, we got more incoming!" Jamie commanded.

"More missiles incoming, type V3, code name 'Wasserfall.'" Samantha reported. "Wait... Those should've been destroyed at Essen, Krupp's factory was the only one that could produce them."

"The Neuroi learn and adapt faster than you think Sammy, that or we hit the factory too late. It's entirely possible that some of them got out before we hit the target." Jamie reasoned.

"But surely- "Samantha began, before she picked up more contacts. "V3 formation ten miles out, approaching from the south-southwest! I count at least ten of them, plus around a dozen other fighters!"

"All units, prepare to engage the enemy!" Jamie commanded.

The gunners tried to lead the targets, but the V3's were being controlled by Neuroi, and evading their fire. As they closed in, two more bombers were hit and went down in flames.

"V3 at seven o'clock low, engaging!" A ball gunner on 'Sally B' shouted. But as he opened fire at the nearby missile, it spun out of control and hit the tail section of the plane, taking a huge chunk off in the following explosion. The captain of the bomber gave the bailout order, and everyone began jumping out of the bomber. But the tail gunner had died instantly from the explosion, and the ball turret had jammed as a result of shrapnel. As was the case with hundreds of ball gunners before him, Chris had the unfortunate common experience of being unable to exit the turret due to it jamming in place and obstructing the exit hatch. Roberta flew over and went inside the flaming carcass of the plane, trying to release him from his imprisoned state. She tried to find the fire axe, but it had fallen out of the plane. It probably wouldn't have done much good, as the shattered glass would shred him up.

"Roberta!" The gunner said, with tears in his eyes. "I'm going to slip a note through the jammed door, I want you to see that it's delivered to my family, ok?"

"Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here, just don't give up! Don't you dare give up on me!"

"Please… just take the note. See that it gets to them… Now go. Don't even think about me for a second. Because otherwise I know you may not be able to live with the grief, and it will burden you all the way to Berlin. Just promise me one thing: That you will end this war, so our deaths won't be in vain."

The words had no sooner left his mouth, when a piece of broken propeller came off the engine and struck the ball turret. The shattered glass and the sharp blow knocked the man unconscious, as he slumped back in the turret. Roberta looked up to see fuel leaking everywhere, even into the bomb bay, and it was only a matter of seconds before the whole thing exploded. Though painful it was, she let go of the airframe and flew back to formation, watching the doomed bomber careening in flames, as it exploded violently. She could not help weeping for him, and even though they did not know each other longer than a few days it had felt like an eternity to her, and now he was gone...

Jamie paused to gather herself, then spoke to her. "Roberta?"

The other witches looked worriedly at Roberta, as tears streamed down her face, but she lifted her head once more and said, "Its ok. I'm going to be ok… He told me not to cry for him."

The rest of the witches grew silent, and after a couple seconds, Roberta raised her .50 cal and shouted, "C'mon girls, let's blow this thing and go home!"

Everyone cheered in agreement, as they helped to defend the bombers, and surged on towards Bremen.

The Neuroi became alarmed that the bombers would pick up speed instead of turning back, and their attack began anew once more. Samantha counted at least seventy more fighters incoming, but they were no match for the resolve of Roberta and the bomber witches. Suddenly Bridget called out over the comm system, "Permission to use special weapons commander?" Jamie nodded, and Bridget yelled "Frenzy" as she began throwing 100lb high explosive bomblets everywhere at the Neuroi. The threat of seventy fighters was proving to be minuscule against the determined bombers, as they neared their target. Five more planes went down in the process, but had the witches been absent it could have been fifty planes lost at the very least. As they neared the target, Jamie called out the countdown for bombs away. The bombers were ten seconds from releasing their payload when the Neuroi fighters began trying to ram them. They were getting desperate, and as the B-17's were rammed by multiple fighters at once, some of them careened into the other bombers, causing chain reactions and putting seven more planes out of commission. It was too late to back down now, they were already committed to the drop, and as Jamie reached zero, hundreds of thousand pound bombs began descending on Bremen. The witches also jettisoned their bomb strikes, using a large amount of energy to do it, even though they still had to fly back to Brittania. The fleet turned and fled towards the Channel, but the witches had used up so much energy that they were lagging behind, out of the gunners' defensive screen. Roberta in particular had used up most of her energy, and had to lean on Esther for support. Their assigned escape route was not very well planned either, as it told them to fly back through Stuttgart. This meant they would have to get past Pragsattel Flakturm once more, which was now back online and shooting at them with the ferocity of an angry hornet's nest.

"That's odd…" Thelma pondered. "I could've sworn my bombing run finished that thing off."

"That's the thing about Flaktowers, they're anti-aircraft bunkers. You can only silence them with attacks, but to kill them you have to take them apart piece by piece and burn the pieces up." Jamie told her.

"But on the bright side, they won't risk sending fighters after us while the flak is going on, else they'd hit their own fighters." Thelma said optimistically.

"Yeah, but we still have to get past this place if we want to get home." Jamie grumbled.

"Home…" Abigail said wistfully.

"Something the matter, Abby?" Alice looked over at her.

"Sometimes I feel terribly sorry for the job I do. The places we bomb contain people's homes, and some of them won't have a place to go once this bloody war ends…" Alice said in a glum voice.

"Well then we'll just have to keep doing our best to hasten the end of this war." Jamie announced.

"The end of this war… That's right. That's what he would've wanted." Roberta concluded.

The other witches nodded in agreement, and eventually they noticed that the flak had stopped. Soon they could see the beautiful waters of the channel, but they were dangerously close to passing out from low energy. Suddenly Samantha piped up, "Hey, there's the Ark Royal. Maybe we should just land there for now and rest." The other witches nodded in agreement, and the British captain of the Ark Royal gave them a warm welcome over the radio as they all collapsed the flight deck. They all breathed a sigh of relief and cheered as the returning B-17's flew overhead, bound for Wycombe. The flight deck crew couldn't help but laugh at the site of nine witches dog piling on each other from exhaustion, but the 8th couldn't care less. They were back in friendly territory, once more, after a long day of hard work.

"W-we made it…" Roberta said in an exhausted voice.

"Indeed." Samantha panted. "I've never been more excited to see this barge than right now."

They all laughed, as the Ark Royal's crew helped them onto escort destroyers that took them to the port, and they fell asleep onboard the ship. When they woke up, they were in the port of Deal, and several army trucks were waiting to take them back to Wycombe. The commander showed up in a jeep, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw them joyously hugging each other.

"Splendid work girls, you made me a very happy man today. Welcome back to Brittania."

The witches smiled wearily, as they all boarded the trucks and began driving back to Wycombe. It seemed like things were looking up for once, and the morale of the air crews had peaked. They thought, as long as the witches were with them in combat, they would see continuous victory, and that they would win this air war to liberate Karlsland.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Letters to Home**

Upon arrival to Wycombe, the witches were unloaded from the trucks and walked onto the aerodrome. Much to their surprise, the maintenance crews were already reloading the bombers again and performing required maintenance on them.

"What is the meaning of this, commander?" Jamie demanded.

"Oh, Miss Doolittle. What you're currently seeing is our forces amassing for the largest aerial and amphibious assault ever known to mankind. The operation's codename is D-Day. When will it take place? We can't say just yet, so keep your guard up and continue practicing until the final go-ahead is given from the President. Now if you'll excuse me, I have my afternoon tea to attend to."

Bridget groaned slightly in disgust. "But we just got back from a grueling raid on Bremen… I can barely move…"

"Well, I don't know what to say anymore." Jamie sighed. "But it seems like our next mission will be the preliminary raid on Omaha Beach, the opening act for this 'D-Day' attack."

"Did you know about this?" Roberta inquired.

"More or less. There are some things they don't tell me, even though I'm considered one of the 'top brass.' I have to find out for myself half the time." Jamie muttered. "Makes me sick with the way they treat my witches."

Samantha looked on worriedly and asked, "Hey, you okay chief?"

"I'll be fine. I'm going to my quarters to rest, and I suggest you all do the same." Jamie muttered.

The other witches nodded in agreement, and headed toward their barracks while Jamie went to her office and fell asleep at her desk.

Around 1800 hours, the witches were awakened by the sound of another party taking place in the mess hall. Roberta in particular was annoyed by it, as she sadly clutched the note the gunner had given to her. She knew she shouldn't, but her hands slowly unfolded the note, exposing its contents to her. It read something like this:

"Dear mother and father,

Life is pretty good here at RAF High Wycombe. I got into one of the best bomber crews I've ever known, the crew of the Sally B. They're a swell bunch of guys, I wish I could bring 'em over sometime to meet you. The food here isn't too bad, they treat their aircrews well. However, the package mom sent was very much appreciated. To taste the luscious dried grapes from your vineyard in San Jose was a real treat, and the crackers were absolutely heavenly. But things are changing rapidly around here, they're sending us deeper and deeper into Karlsland, and I begin to wonder if we'll ever make it to our 25th mission so we can come home. Don't you worry though, I'm not fighting so I can come back, I'm fighting to liberate these people, that's more important to me than the comforts of home.

Your son,

Chris"

The letter underneath it also found itself being unfolded by Roberta's hand, though this one was much more recent.

"Dear mother and father,

We just completed another mission over Karlsland. My heart is racing even now, as I relive the horrors that I saw in Stuttgart. It's terrible, these enemies are inhuman, and they are not something to be trifled with. I recently acquired a job as the ball turret gunner, after my friend Billy was killed in action on our bomber. It's quite possibly the most vulnerable place to be on a bomber, suspended from a plane, thousands of meters high in the air. I'm scared mother, so very scared. But I don't have to be scared anymore, because I've finally met a beautiful girl, and fallen in love…"

At this, Roberta put her hand over her mouth and began to tear up as she continued reading.

"...Her name is Roberta Morgan, the Memphis Belle. She's a fiery young girl from the 8th Joint Strike Force, a squadron where they equip powerful young girls to be Bomber Witches. I took her out to the dance, and it was just such an uplifting experience to be with her. I almost forgot that we were at war altogether. With a girl like her around, I feel safe, and I am confident that I will make it home and introduce you to her. I plan to get some flowers after my 25th mission, and propose to her on base, I can't wait to see the smile on her face. I truly..."

The last few words were obscured by smudges, and a few bloody fingerprints had dried on the edge of the paper. Tears began to roll off of Roberta's face, and she had to hold the paper away, else her tears obscure it more. There was also a picture attached with a paper clip of Chris in his uniform, and she stared at it quietly before putting it back within the letter. A determined look made its way across her face as she looked at the stars out her window and whispered, "Don't worry Chris, your death will not be in vain. I… no. We will end this war."

Esther rolled over on her bed, adjacent to Roberta's, and began mumbling groggily. "Are you still awake? You need your sleep Roberta…"

Smiling at Esther, Roberta put the letter and photo back into its envelope, and kissed it as she set it on her nightstand. She was soon asleep, dreaming peacefully.

But it was not to last, as hours later they were awakened by B-17's doing early practice takeoffs. Roberta rubbed her eyes as she sat up in bed, still half asleep. She got out of bed and began walking towards the mess hall for breakfast, and was met by equally tired bomber witches sitting around a table. Grabbing a plate of egg, sausage, bacon, and toast, she sat down next to them.

"Good morning girls…" she said, taking a bite of toast.

There was a general exchange of good mornings, except for Pauline who was too busy complaining and poking at her powdered eggs.

"Gah, having no eggs at all would be better than this crap." Pauline complained.

Thelma nudged her, and suggested, "I'll take those off your hands."

Pauline agreed, though she looked sickly as she watched Thelma consuming what was considered a bane to all aircrews, save for the Orussians, who were grateful for so much as a bowl full of gruel.

Samantha was at the table, and having finished her breakfast, was busy reading maps and diagrams of Normandy. "So… This is Omaha Beach, and this… is the bunker line." she said.

The other witches leaned over to look at the paper, and were quite dismayed as they viewed their target.

"That little line of pillboxes and bunkers is our target?" Bridget squinted." I'm not concerned about us being able to hit it, but the other bombers will have a very hard time hitting that." remarked Bridget as she had a worried look on her face.

Samantha nodded and pointed to the route they were taking. "Especially when we're approaching from a perpendicular direction. We're coming south to attack, but the line runs east to west."

"Dear lord, even I know that's a failure waiting to happen." Thelma rubbed her head.

"I know, but it can't be helped. Top brass' decision is final." Samantha sighed.

"That's what I hate the most about this job." a voice muttered from the end of the table.

The other witches turned to see Jamie hunched over a cup of coffee, holding her medal in hand.

"I lead the first counteroffensive for Liberion against the Neuroi, in a raid that was named after me. Everyone said it was impossible, but we did it. I'm a freaking war hero, and I still don't get any respect from the top brass."

"You still have us though…" Roberta said as she hugged Jamie.

"W-What are you doing?! You can't just hug your superior like that!" Jamie sputtered as her face turned beet red.

"If I see someone down like that, I can and will hug them to cheer them up." Roberta replied, matter-of-factly.

Jamie protested, and then conceded to Roberta's warm embrace. The other witches grinned at each other, then they group hugged Jamie together. "H-Hey! I can't breathe!" she shouted, but it was muffled as they all laughed together, and she eventually joined in the laughter.

Their hugging was abruptly interrupted however, as the siren began screaming for Minimum Interval Take Off to begin. "General quarters, all hands! Prepare for MITO immediately! Man your battle stations!"

"It's time..." As Jamie stood up, she addressed the other girls, "Well this is it girls, this might even be our last mission."

But they all stood up and saluted her proudly, shouting, "Rest assured ma'am, the Bomber Witches will always get through!"

Jamie smiled, and teared up slightly. "I've trained you girls well, you'll do fine out there." She saluted them back, and imperatively said, "Dismissed!" as they ran out to the hangar to scramble.

Roberta smiled as she ran with them, saying to herself, "Today is the beginning of the end... the war will be over that much quicker if we can nail this preemptive strike."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Primo Victoria**

It was a warm and rainy day in Wycombe, just like any normal day in the rest of Brittania. Today was different though. Today the air forces would pave the way for the retaking of Karlsland by way of the invasion in northern Gallia. The 8th Joint Strike Force was tasked to assist the Brittanian bombers in dropping approximately five thousand tons of bombs on the beaches, and destroying the pillbox and bunker lines to help the infantry out. This was easier said than done though. In the past, low level bombers had tried to soften the area up, but were either destroyed by anti-aircraft fire, or missed the target completely. Today was different though, today the Bomber Witches would make sure the job was finished, no matter what the cost.

As the Eighth took off, they watched the B-17's and Lancaster's scrambling from the runway, and off in the distance they would see B-24's from other RAF bases taking off as well. The High Command did not want to give away the real intent of their attack to the Neuroi, so they decided that for every one attack on Normandy there would be two attacks on coastal ports elsewhere. Suddenly Samantha picked up a transmission from RAF High Command, and she relayed it with much joy to the rest of the witches.

"Looks like we're in luck girls," Samantha announced. "We've received some well needed backup for this mission."

"Perrine's here?" Pauline smirked. "She could bear to leave her beloved Major Sakamoto?"

The other girls laughed, but soon quieted down as they moved above the cloud cover.

"Actually, what I wanted to say was that we have a young girl doing forward reconnaissance for us." Samantha piped up. "She's currently being dropped off by a small Waco glider to the beaches. Her name is… Lily Bouck."

"Lily Bouck? THE Lily Bouck? Why was I not informed of this?" Jamie demanded. "I'm a huge fan of hers. At the beginning of the war in 1939, she was only 11 years old and already attained the rank of captain. What I wouldn't do to shake hands with her…"

"You seem to admire her quite a bit, Lt. Col." Samantha nudged with a smile.

"Well it's not just that…" Jamie turned a little red. "I mean the poor girl has been an inspiration for me. That's all, really."

Several miles ahead of the 8th, a C-47 was towing a small glider plane toward the Omaha Beach. The tow cable was released, and the tow plane peeled off as the glider descended down to the small village of St. Laurent. The noiseless plane was piloted by a young sixteen year old girl with a pale blonde ponytail and grey-blue eyes. She wore a black leather coat, and a red knitted scarf that she wore around her neck. A Browning 1911 lay holstered left of her chest, as her half-fingered gloves clutched the steering yoke tightly. In the second seat were a peculiar pair of ground strikers, based off of the M8 Greyhound armored car. A thirty seven millimeter cannon was also present, along with a box of rations next to it. The Waco glider coasted down through a grove of trees outside the village, quietly landing in the dirt. The girl opened the front of the glider up, donned her gear, and smiled as she took a look around. "Look out Neuroi. Lily Bouck has arrived." The young captain drove her M8 Greyhound units into the village, taking up overwatch in the tallest building. She set her gear against the wall, pulled out her binoculars, and began surveying the land. "Just as the reports said, all the bunkers are running east to west. Now all I have to do is wait." Lily said, as she set up her radio and began to pull out a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes.

Meanwhile above the English Channel, the bomber fleet churned through the clouds. Alice sighed as she said, "Man, this is a great sight, it looks just like-"

"An Aluminum Overcast?" Abigail smirked slyly.

"You stole the words right from my mouth, Abby." Alice replied with a smile.

"Cut the chatter ladies, enemy fighters could be lurking anywhere. We're getting close to the rendezvous point, all bombers, switch radio frequency to one three one point one megahertz when ready." Jamie called out over the radio.

The comm channel sprang into life as the bomber crews began talking to each other, cracking jokes and commenting on the lovely ladies escorting them.

"Hey Luke, put the camera away, we've got a mission to accomplish."

"Yeah, maybe after this we can all go on leave."

"I can't wait to see my girlfriend back home again."

"If she hasn't found someone else."

"Oh you shut up ya bastard!"

"Haha! You flash, you lose!"

"What are they talking about?" Perrine asked curiously.

"Oh don't mind them." Alice smiled. "But in the RAF and the Royal Navy, they have a tradition called "You flash, you lose" where if you allow your temper to flare from someone purposely making fun of you, you lose and owe them a dessert back at the base."

"How quaint. I've never heard of such a thing." Bridget pondered.

"And you never will again if you don't keep the comm channel tight." Jamie said, rather annoyed. "We're getting closer and closer to the drop point, and I haven't seen a single Neuroi yet. This has got to be a trap."

"Long range sensors haven't picked anything up yet. You sure?" Samantha said, scanning the skies."

"Positive. Something's up. They wouldn't leave the Atlantic Wall without fighter cover… would they?" Jamie wondered, looking at Jamie.

A few hours later, the beach could just barely be seen through the clouds, as more and more bomber crews radioed in, confirming target in sight.

Roberta soon piped up, "So I heard the 101st Airborne Division is also parachuting into Normandy behind enemy lines today. I hope they're alright."

"101st? They'll be fine. The Screaming Eagles always get the job done. Besides, it's just a diversionary strike to lure some enemies away from their posts and ease things up for the invasion." Pauline replied.

"Sounds like a suicide mission to me." Roberta sighed, looking down at the ground.

"Say, is anyone even certain this plan is going to work? We're coming at the line of bunkers from a perpendicular angle, we might not hit it." Thelma pointed out, worriedly.

"Save your energy, we'll use our bomb strikes last, to clean up anything they miss." Jamie ordered.

But truth be told, nobody had any sort of certainty about the mission at hand. Not a single fighter had been spotted, and it was not giving off any warm fuzzy feelings to the crews.

Down at St. Laurent, Lily picked up her binoculars for another look, as she munched on a K-ration. Suddenly, she heard a faint noise, and scanned the sky to see a formation of planes on the horizon. "They're here. Time to light this candle!" Lily said, as a huge smile grew on her face.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: The Final Overture**

As they neared the drop point, the massive fleet of B-17's and B-24's began opening their bomb bay doors, preparing to drop about five thousand tons of bombs on the beach defenses. What they did not realize, however, was that they only had a limited window to release their bombs, and that the target was much more spread out than they were led to believe. The thick cloud cover was not making things any better. The order was given to drop the bombs, right on target, as the witches all held their breath. Explosions were confirmed on the ground, and the bomber fleet began plotting their route home, just as Samantha called out, "Mission failed! Repeat! The target has been missed!"

Suddenly, a transmission came through the radio, and Samantha put it on open comms. "This is Captain Lily Bouck, callsign 'Smokehound'. I'm down in St. Laurent surveying the damage to verify your situation." She paused, looking through her binoculars as the smoke cleared. "What in tarnation…"

"Samantha Laddon, call sign Miss Pick Up, from Eighth Joint Strike Force. What do you see, Smokehound?"

"Not only did you miss the target by a long shot, but some of those pillboxes are moving. They've got treads underneath them…" Lily radioed.

"Please be advised, the comm channel does not exist for the purpose of prank calling, which is not taken kindly to in any of the armed force divisions." Samantha reminded her.

"You think I'm lying? Come down and see for yourself, princess!" Lily snapped.

The bomber witches peeled off towards the beach. They dove through the clouds, and were surprised to find that Lily was not lying. The pillboxes were indeed moving around, and had dodged the few bombs that would've actually hit their positions. Jamie turned to the rest of the witches and said, "Ok, level bomb strikes are not going to work on these guys. Do any of you remember your dive bombing training?"

Thelma and Pauline raised their hands, Samantha as well, having been trained in the navy on the standard SBD Dauntless bomber unit. The other witches were not as fortunate, and Jamie began giving them a training crash course on how to dive bomb a target successfully. This was especially useful since the pillbox Neuroi had limited firing angles, and could not hit a witch doing a dive bomb attack from forty-five to sixty degrees. While Jamie was teaching them, Samantha and Pauline led the attack on the mobile bunkers. As it turned out, they were only moving about twenty kilometers an hour, but it was enough to evade level strikes from high altitude. Thelma used her Azon attacks to guide her bombs onto the target, as she chose not to dive bomb since she was a bit rusty. One pillbox went down, soon, another one, and then two more were destroyed. By the time Jamie taught the other witches the basics, five pillboxes had been put out of commission. Not to be outdone, Jamie rushed into the fight and began shooting the light pillboxes with seventy-five millimeter armor piercing incendiary tracer rounds, piercing through the cores and finishing them off with a maximum of two shots each, though it mostly took her one shot to kill a light pillbox. Soon Roberta had a kill, and then Esther got one, and then Alice, and Abigail, and even Bridget, as they helped mop up the remaining pillboxes. Suddenly, a squadron of Neuroi arrived a little late to the party, and about one hundred Neuroi fighters charged at the girls.

"Hey Esther." Roberta smirked, her eyes filled with a mischievous look. "We're going to do 'that.'"

"'That?'" Esther asked.

"What else?" Roberta replied with a grin.

"I see. Let's do 'that' then." Esther smiled back.

"Let's dance!" Roberta said triumphantly as she began glowing like fiery coals.

Esther nodded, as she began spinning and forming a tornado around herself. In a split second, time seemed to slow down as they both grabbed each other's hand and yelled, "FIRE TORNADO!"

Roberta and Esther began spinning in unison, as the tornado filled with flames began surging towards the Neuroi with tremendous speed. The other girls dove out of the way as the fiery cyclone collided with six fighters, incinerating them on impact and setting five more on fire. Everyone watched in shock and awe as the duo danced through the formation of enemies, turning everything to ashes. In just a matter of thirty seconds, they had taken down sixty more enemy fighters, and then another twenty nine disappeared into the inferno wind.

Once the fighters were downed, the two bombers returned to the beach where the other bomber witches had cleaned up the pillboxes and most of the bunkers. The landing forces were on their way, despite low tide, and were already running up the beach. A few unfortunate landing craft got stuck on the anti-tank obstacles, and others ran into mines that were affixed to tank traps. The only remaining defender of Omaha was an enormous bunker at the far end of the beach, which was immobile, but wielded an eighty-eight millimeter gun and boasted impervious reinforced concrete armor.

"It's almost like this entire beach was a citadel made of Neuroi, and that looks to be the castle's king." Pauline said.

She was right, and later groups of armor and cavalry divisions would know that bunker as the "Concrete King Tiger" since it wielded such powerful armor and a devastating gun to match, just like the famed Karlsland heavy tank. The witches hurled every last piece of ordnance they had at the monster, while landing troops were tossed around by high velocity rounds, but they were barely managing to make a dent in it. It seemed like the only way they could kill it was be invading with ground troops and destroying it from the inside. So after consulting Jamie, Pauline made the decision to freeze Omaha beach with her Talvisota ability. She told the other witches and the ground troops to stay back about five kilometers, as she focused her mana and began creating a large sphere of dirty ice. Chanting a short charging spell in her native language, she then yelled "TALVISOTA!" as she lobbed the icy blue ball into the bunker, and soon there was a mushroom cloud of fluffy snow and sleet as the entire area began to freeze almost instantly. The entire beach froze, and snow began to fall from the clouds, as the bunker was put into deep freeze. Pauline was exhausted however, and passed out from using too much energy. The other witches rushed over with great concern and screaming her name as she fell headfirst into a snowdrift below.

When Pauline opened her eyes, she was in a hospital bed in a white tent, and she could visibly make out Red Cross symbols on the personnel. The nurse smiled and gave her permission to leave after a short inspection, and she walked out onto a snowy beach filled with tanks, trucks, landing craft, and soldiers everywhere. Eventually the other witches were spotted huddling around a bonfire, drinking hot chocolate and laughing. As they spotted Pauline, they smiled and cheered for her, waving their mugs happily. Thelma on the hand, ran over to Pauline and buried her head into Pauline's chest as she hugged her and sobbed, "Don't ever do that again you fool! I was so worried about you!" Pauline weakly smiled, as she patted Thelma's blonde head of hair and said, "It's all right. We did it, and we'll be going home soon." Thelma continued to cry as she hugged Pauline tightly, and soon the other witches came over and joined them in a group hug. Meanwhile the soldiers scratched their heads as they inspected the frozen bunker, and planted as many explosives as they could on it to dismantle the gun. Lily Bouck had seen the entire thing from her eagle's perch, and was quite impressed by the show they had put on. "Those girls aren't bad at all." She admitted, pulling out her pack of Lucky Strikes, and lighting one. "With them nearby, we've got a chance to win this war."

And so the Eighth Joint Strike Force, known as the Bomber Witches, paved the way for the allied invasion of Gallia. Soon Karlsland would be liberated, and the rest of Europe would follow. None of this could've ever happened without the fearless efforts of the Eighth, and their determination to do what is right. They would eventually go back to their own home bases in their respective theaters, but they get together from time to time at a small park in Memphis, Tennessee, and they have a lovely picnic together, and talk of how they helped liberate Europe.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Reckoning**

The nine members of the 8th Joint Strike Force met at Overton Park in Memphis, Tennessee, during their leave after D-Day. Nobody spoke of that day, however, as they tried to move on and enjoy their well-deserved leave. It was a bright sunny day in the park, as Roberta, Esther, Pauline, Thelma, Jamie, Samantha, Alice, Abigail, and Bridget were busy setting up a picnic in the soft green grass. Jamie brought some lovely ham sandwiches, Samantha brought about a pound of baby carrots, Esther baked fresh chocolate chip cookies, Pauline brought a quart of vanilla ice cream, and Alice brought refreshing lemon zinger tea in a thermos. The rest of the girls, Roberta, Thelma, Abigail, and Bridget went about spreading the blanket on the grass, and having a merry time doing it. As they sat down to enjoy the food, they began sharing stories of their lives before the 8th JSF was formed. Roberta, intrigued by this subject, began saying, "I remember back when I was in the 91st Heavy Bombardment Group…"

Alice looked at her incredulously, and asked, "You mean you weren't always part of the 8th?!"

"Of course not…" she said with a smile." The 8th is a joint strike group, made up of top bomber witches from different squadrons and bombing groups."

"Surely that can't be, I don't have much of a combat record…" Alice admitted as she hung her head slightly.

"Well you and Abigail must've shown some real potential to end up with us." Roberta giggled as Alice and Abigail perked up. "And you've proven yourselves quite a bit in combat. You two are quirky, but you make a great team. I remember back in my first couple of missions, nobody really payed attention to me. I was a rookie, like you, and at the time I didn't have a real call sign yet, only a name, rank, and serial number. It wasn't until maybe my thirteenth mission that people started noticing I was coming back consistently without a scratch, despite the heavy losses in the 91st. Even though our unit had the highest casualties of any bomb group, I was still doing my best no matter what. But when I reached my twenty-fourth mission, things started to heat up very quickly. You have to realize, that the typical tour of duty lasts twenty-five missions, after that you're allowed to go home, but very few even made it close to that. I remember being approached by a director named William Wyler, who said he wanted to film me completing my twenty-fifth mission and show it to the world, encouraging the bomber crews, encouraging young people to join the Air Force (it used to be the Army Air Corps.) and even urging civilians back home in Liberion to buy more war bonds and help support the war effort against the Neuroi."

"And did it work?" Abigail asked, curiously.

"You bet it did. I essentially became the role model for almost every young aspiring bomber witch ever since I completed my last mission. But even after that, I volunteered to keep serving, because my job isn't done until the Neuroi are nothing but smoking craters in the ground. I'll tell you this though, it wasn't just the AA and Neuroi fighters I was scared of that day over Wilhelmshaven, but also the combat cameramen in some of the other B-17's, who were filming the entire mission on May 18th, 1943. Had I made a mistake then, it would be seen on the big screen in front of millions of Liberions. Like what happened to Esther…" She turned to look at Esther momentarily, who blushed and tried to escape Roberta's calm gaze. "It's ok, that's what sisters are for…" Roberta smiled, trying to cheer her up.

"So… where was Esther during all of this?" A curious Alice inquired.

"Well, to be fair-" Roberta began.

"A-actually, I like to explain it myself…" Esther's quiet, quivering voice interrupted Roberta as everyone turned to look at her. She sat on one corner of the blanket, her eyes a bit misty, as she began explaining her past.

"W-well, I wasn't officially a part of the 91st, but I petitioned to be there so I could fight alongside my sister…" Esther admitted.

"Isn't that nearly impossible for relatives to be in the same unit?" Jamie pondered.

"I… May have talked to the right people… I wrote letters to the head of the operation, General Curtiss Lemay, and he also received letters from my unit's superiors, stating that my combat effectiveness was extremely low when I wasn't near Roberta… I could never focus, I couldn't shoot straight, and I could barely stay in the air, so when he heard my petition - and my fellow squad mates petitions - he reluctantly allowed me into the 91st, but not officially. ...I actually took heavy damage on that mission with Roberta, and she protected me until we could get to the target, drop our bombs, and then she practically carried me home in her arms… I could never repay her for what she did that day…" Her blushing intensified, as she turned away. Roberta on the other hand, went closer, sat down next to her, and hugged her tightly.

"R-Roberta?!" she said with surprise.

"Don't worry, I'll always protect you, my little sister…" Roberta smiled.

"R-Roberta…" Esther said as she began to cry on Roberta's shoulder, while Pauline coughed and asked if anyone else had a story to share.

Thelma slowly raised her hand, and began talking about her experiences in the Pacific.

"I remember back in the Pacific theater, when we had to stop a Neuroi uprising at Kure Naval Yard in Fuso. They were trying to destroy the battleship IFN Haruna, so we were tasked with killing the buggers before they could take it down. It wasn't easy though. I got hit by a Neuroi AAA gun, and fell into the port's cold waters… But I had to ditch my bomber units so I wouldn't sink, B-24D models at the time, and I swam to the dock where I just kept firing with my .50 cal, blasting them out of the sky, and picking them off of Haruna one by one. I must say they were quite desperate, cause when they realized they couldn't capture with me around, they tried to destroy it instead, another futile attempt. I took many random hits, until most of my clothing was burned off by laser fire. Or was it from my gun overheating…? Any who, we protected her to the end, and I was awarded quite heavily for that one."

Pauline, sitting next to Thelma, blushed heavily at the mental image of her best friend standing on the docks firing madly, her precious soft skin showing more than her clothes and singed by laser beams… She shook it off, though Thelma didn't seem to be embarrassed at all by her bold statement or by the group's opinion of her. Jamie spoke up and said, "You're quite a brave woman Thelma, most witches would just sit there and blush, trying to hide themselves instead of fighting. I'm proud to know you're in my group."

Thelma smiled warmly and thanked her, laughing softly, but at this point Pauline finally broke and turned away to hide her nosebleed, trying to wipe it off with a napkin. She faintly heard Alice and Abigail giggling softly, and cast them a stern glance which shut them up almost immediately.

"Well what about you two, Alice and Abigail? Got any good stories?" Jamie inquired.

"None that y'all haven't already heard or seen." Abigail responded in her sweet little Texas drawl.

"Same here, there's nothing we've been through that you haven't already been through." Alice explained with a shrug. But then she perked up and began, "Oh, but have I told you about what happened after my graduation from the academy?"

The rest of them shook their heads, admitting that they hadn't, and even Abigail hadn't heard about this yet.

"Well," she began. "After I graduated from the academy, I went back to my hometown in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. I was there just in time to enjoy a small aerial competition that was being held at the regional airport. It wasn't that busy at the time, because of the war going on, but all the graduates of that year joined up to have flying competitions, and just have a great time celebrating. I recall a moment in particular, where I was testing out my new B-17G units, and flying above the airport, back and forth, just enjoying myself, when I spotted a young man with binoculars, who just kept staring at me and smiling every time I passed overhead. When I finally landed, he couldn't wait to meet me, but some of the superiors tried to drive him away. I was disgusted at this, and pushed my superiors aside as I spoke with him. Apparently he was a huge fan of mine, and came all the way across Liberion to meet me in person. I was quite flattered, so I gave him one of my pictures, signed it for him, and I also gave him a hug, at which point he essentially fainted from excitement. Although I thought he had passed out from the heat, so I called in the first aid team to take care of him while I went back to practicing. Oh yeah, I also met three other interesting bomber witches who came to compete: Stephanie Slavik, a B-17G, Lillian Prescott, a B-24A, and Natalya Melkin, an Orussian B-25J witch."

Samantha, mostly quiet this whole time, asked, "So how did you and Abigail meet?"

"Well, when we heard they needed more units up in Brittannia, I enlisted, surprisingly at the same time that Abigail did." Alice explained.

Here, Abigail spoke up, as she continued the explanation, "We actually met each other on the C-47 that took us across the pond, and after swapping stories from the academy, we soon became great friends."

"Well that's great." Jamie said. "Um… We pretty much already know Pauline's story… Is there anybody who hasn't spoken, other than Samantha?" She glanced around, and everybody had seemed to forget about Bridget, who merely scoffed as she blew on her hot tea. "Oh! Sorry Bridget, I almost forgot about you!"

"What a surprise." Bridget said sarcastically, as she took a sip of her lemon tea.

"Well gee, you don't have to be so hurt about it." Abigail remarked.

At this, Bridget choked on her hot tea, and after wiping her mouth off, began her speech. "You know, all this time I've been living at High Wycombe, practicing, waiting for the day that I would be accepted into a group like the Eighth. But day after day, I see everyone from old veterans to fresh recruits joining the Joint Strike Force, as I sit there and seethe in fury, like a pile of wasted talent."

"But Bridget… you have to-" Samantha began, only to be interrupted by Bridget.

"Don't 'But Bridget' me! I've wanted to join the Eighth ever since it was in the initiative stages, I was the first one to apply, and yet eight witches were processed in before they even looked at me and remembered who I was. I am a Brittanian by blood, I was raised on Brittanian soil my whole life, and then I get trampled on by a bunch of bloody Liberions who just walk right past me without a single ounce of shame! I'm tired of being overlooked all the time!" She finished with a loud scoff.

"Bridget… I'm sorry that you weren't first in line. But being first isn't all it's cracked up to be." Pauline said, attempting to comfort her. "Believe me. I was the first to test a weapon of mass destruction against the Neuroi. And though I should've been praised, I was criticized by my own people, the whole nation looked down on me, all the other nations were disgusted at the mention of me, and I myself was quite disappointed as well. Being first isn't all it's cracked up to be..."

"I don't think that's the best comparison, but thank you for trying Pauline." Bridget admitted, calming down.

"Well Samantha, you got anything to share?" Jamie said, trying to change the subject.

"Nothing that you don't already know, except hundreds of hours of patrol duty…" She said with a sigh.

"You sure? What was the most exciting thing that ever happened in your career before the Eighth?" Jamie asked.

"Well, one time I saw a whale in the channel…" Samantha said with a smile.

Everyone gave her a dumbfounded look, as she perked up and activated her mongoose familiar, her gray-blue eyes glowing with magic aura.

"Message intercepted from RAF High Wycombe. Eighth Joint Strike Force instructed to return to High Wycombe. The push for Berlin, Karlsland has begun. Will give more details upon return. Sincerely, Curtiss Lemay." Samantha said.

"Lemay? No way, I thought Eisenhower was still in charge of the campaign…" Jamie pondered.

"No. Eisenhower gives us target advisories that will benefit his land forces. Lemay is the commander of the day bombing effort, the supreme commander at that." replied Samantha promptly.

"Well girls, it's time to get back into action. You ready?" Jamie asked, packing everything back up. But when she looked up again, all of the girls already had their bomber units on and their guns out. "You girls… you amaze me sometimes…"

"We strive to make our commander proud!" Alice said, giggling slightly.

"All right then." Jamie said, getting her Mitchell units on. "Let's rock 'n roll!" she said as their magic circles and familiars deployed. There was a loud roar heard for miles through Overton Park and the rest of Memphis, as all nine witches started up their bomber units and rose into the sky of Tennessee, beginning the journey to the nearest Air Force base, where they would catch a C-47 back to High Wycombe and return to Brittania. "If they needed us back that badly, things must be really rough over there. Expect the worse, grit your teeth, and give it all ya got girls!" Jamie shouted over the radio.

"Yes ma'am!" The girls shouted in unison.

"Man I missed hearing that…" Jamie got misty eyed as the rest of them laughed and they flew off towards the nearest Air Force base.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Brewing Storm**

When they arrived at High Wycombe on Wednesday, the aerodrome looked busier than ever. B-17's were in and out of the maintenance hangars, bombers with burnt up engines and airframes sat in the repair hangars, though it looked like they would never fly again. Apparently, after D-Day, they had missed the retaliatory strike by the Neuroi similar to waves of V1 flying bombs. Much of Brittania had taken damage, from the cities to the airbases, with reported casualties in the densely populated areas. The crews were walking around like they were half asleep, as the recent attacks had denied them well needed rest, making a psychological impact on the men. Jamie led the girls to the barracks to get themselves arranged, until they were interrupted by Lemay's secretary, who called Jamie and Roberta up to the main office.

They walked into the office to the smell of tobacco as a rough, manly voice invited them to sit down, which they did. Eventually, the chair turned around to face them, revealing the mighty General Curtiss Lemay himself. He was a rather large man, as he chomped on his thick hand-rolled cigar and looked at them intently. He cleared his throat and began speaking in his gruff voice.

"Welcome back to High Wycombe ladies!" he said with a smile.

Jamie and Roberta calmly answered, "Thank you sir." trying not to show too much emotion.

"I trust the ride across the pond was alright." he asked, straightening up and returning to his normal expression. "Because tomorrow is a big day for all the bombing groups, and you girls will be paramount, not only to the mission's success, but to the crew's morale." He stood up and pointed to a large map of Europe on the wall behind him, particularly to the city of Schweinfurt. "Tomorrow you'll be hitting a Neuroi production hive in Schweinfurt, Karlsland. We hit them back in August, but they've repaired most of the heavy damage that we caused. It's up to you girls to lead our bombers to the target and crush them for good, got it?"

"Yes sir!" Jamie and Roberta said.

"Good. Now go get some sleep. Busy, busy day tomorrow…" he said, sitting back down in his chair and continuing his smoke.

Roberta and Jamie left his office and went back to the barracks together.

"I wonder how many units are going up…" Roberta pondered.

"We may be going up in full force. This is Schweinfurt, after all. We're going deep into occupied Karlsland this time, to hit a hive that should've been completely destroyed months ago…" Jamie said, staring intently at a weather report and a map of Karlsland.

Roberta smiled reassuringly. "It'll be alright! I heard we have three more witches showing up soon!"

Confused, Jamie looked at Roberta, as she had her hand on the doorknob to the barracks. "What on earth do you mean?"

"A B-17G, a B-24A, and a B-25J witch are scheduled to be joining our group, according to the announcement board."

"Interesting… I guess we're not that strong yet, so they're giving us more reinforcement…?" She turned the door handle, walking in to see all the girls lying on their bunks, reading, as a record played in the background. Her eyes shifted left and right, then she imperatively asked, "What happened here, girls?"

"Nothing…" The girls replied innocently.

But Jamie would have none of that, as she walked over to the closet and cautiously opened it, as suitcases began tumbling out, spilling clothes onto the floor. She began to frown angrily in disappointment. "Clean up this mess. NOW."

They all started picking up clothes, and began organizing them in their dressers as they cleaned up their baggage and put it away properly. Jamie then continued to instruct the girls in cleaning the barracks, as they were the only ones who used that area, and she therefore wanted it spick and span. "If we have new recruits on the way, do you want them coming in and seeing this mess?" She pointed at the cobwebs in the corner and the dust on the floor. "I'm going to get all our documents straightened out, and file the paperwork, and when I get back I'm doing a white glove inspection, understood?"

"Yes ma'am…"

"Good. I'll see you girls after dinner." She walked to her desk at the end of the building, sat down at her desk, shut the door and began working on various mountains of paperwork for the squadron.

A few hours later, as they were finishing up with the dusting and cleaning, a transport aircraft was heard flying over the base. At first glance out the window, it looked much like a standard C-47 Skytrain, but it had Orussian markings on it, which confused everyone. Then Bridget spoke up, "Oh, that's a Lisunov Li-2, the Orussian licensed version of the C-47. I've only seen a few of them though, and it was never around here…"

The eight girls curiously walked over to the aerodrome as the plane taxied in, sputtering and coughing as though it hadn't been used very much and was in need of an overhaul. As it stopped, the exit stairs lowered, revealing a beautiful Orussian girl with long blonde hair, a black leather jacket that partially showed off her well-endowed chest, a black "Ushanka" hat, tight dark grey bloomers, and black leather boots. A large fellow followed her down the stairs, carrying her bag, and set it down for her on the ground. "Thank you Boris." The girl said, and the large man simply nodded as he closed the door and it taxied away back to the runway. She looked a little confused and disoriented, so Samantha walked up to her and asked her what her name was and who she was looking for.

The girl answered, in a smooth Orussian accent, "My name is Natalya Melkin, and I am from the 588th Orussian Night Bomber Regiment. I am looking for…" Here she paused to pull a note out of her front pocket, and she read it. "The… Eighth Joint Strike Force. The Bomber Witches?"

Abigail stepped up and began in her Texas accent, "Well you've come to the right place honey! Let's get you to the barracks…"

Alice then realized who this girl was, at the mention of the 588th, and asked, "Natalya? Is that really you?"

Natalya's eyes widened in realization as she ran over to Alice and hugged her. "Alice! It's so good to see you again!"

Alice's breathing was stifled by the strong bear hug from the Orussian, and she patted her on the back as she tried to whisper, "I missed you too, but I can't breathe…"

"Oh! Moye plokhoye!" She apologized in her native language, as she let go and stroked her blonde strands of hair.

They began walking towards the barracks, talking as they went, but as they finished unpacking some stuff, Natalya plopped down onto her bed and cuddled her pillow. "Ah… These beds are so much better than what I'm used to…"

"...What do you normally sleep on...?" Abigail pondered.

"Well, doing nighttime harassment missions back in the 588th, we would do multiple raids per night, striking and then taking quick naps in fields outside the combat zone to recharge so we could hit them again. If you're lucky, you might find a nice rock to use as your pillow as you sleep on the cold ground. Then again, I'm lucky to have been given these B-25J Mitchell units, even if they are lend-lease. I used to fly Poliparkov 2 units…" She laughed heartily.

"Well I'm still very glad you're here. I know you're going to be a great member of our team." Alice smiled as Abigail sensed what was going on and leaned against the doorframe, scowling slightly. Her own interpretations of the situation began escalating in her mind as she slowly walked out the door.

"Oh! I almost forgot one more thing!" Natalya said, her jade green eyes gleaming in excitement. "Stephanie and Lillian will be joining us in a few days as well!"

"Well, Stephanie will be really good for morale, but as far as Lillian goes… I'm surprised she would be able to come here, after her incident…" Alice looked down, remembering her sad story.

"Ah yes, the one bomber witch who has never dropped a single bomb in her life. It's a shame, it is… but she's been doing extensive training in anti-air defense of bomber formations, so she has that going for her."

"I suppose…" Alice admitted, as she glanced around the room. "Hey, where'd Abigail go?"

Abigail sat in the aerodrome mess hall, eating her favorite dessert, pecan pie. But she wasn't enjoying it, as she sat there and sulked over what had happened.

"Who does this Orussian girl think she is, intruding on my friendship with Alice…? We've been friends for years and now all of a sudden this happens and she acts like I'm not there… Unbelievable…" she muttered, stabbing the pie with her fork and taking a bite. "Delicious…"

Meanwhile, she heard a few voices from a table behind her. They were indistinct at first, but as she listened in there were two girls talking. One of them clearly had an accent that could only be distinguished as one from the Lone Star state, so she turned around and was met with two intriguing sights. The first girl, who sounded Texan, had long brown hair and was wearing a black silk dress with red lining, a faux fur scarf around her neck, and lovely articles of jewelry in the form of a diamond ring and pearl bracelets. The second girl had black hair with curled bangs, and strangely enough had a slight Ostmark accent, which Abigail found odd as she was wearing a stunning dress with a pattern resembling the flag of Liberion, which complemented her red skirt quite well. Eventually, they stopped talking as they noticed she was looking at them.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare…" Abigail said, looking quite flustered.

"It's alright, we get that a lot, being oddballs and such…" one of them replied.

Abigail walked over and sat down with them, and struck up a conversation. "So where y'all from?"

"I'm guessing I'm from the same place as you." the brown haired girl said with a smile. "I'm Lillian Prescott, by the way."

"And I'm Stephanie Slavik, we're fairly new here…" said the girl with the Liberion flag dress.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Abigail Kennedy, of the 8th Joint Strike Force." she answered proudly.

"The 8th?! No way!" Stephanie exclaimed with excitement. "That's the group we were assigned to!"

"How is it? Is it a good group?" Lillian questioned the veteran witch.

"Interesting… You'll love the 8th, it's one of the best joint bombing units I've ever been a part of. I haven't been in many other divisions, but it's still the greatest group I know of." she said with a warm smile.

"That's good to hear..." Stephanie returned a calming grin.

"Well, in that case I look forward to working with ya!" Lillian said, as she smiled cheerfully. "Hey, you gonna finish that pecan pie?"

"Of course! It's a Texas favorite, after all," Abigail said as she quickly finished the delicious dessert. She then took them by the hand and gave them a personal tour of the aerodrome.

They were in the hangar, looking at the bomber units in their docks, when suddenly the warning siren went off. A voice began shouting over the blaring air raid siren, "Warning! Enemy air assault inbound! All air defense units, scramble! This is not a drill! I repeat! This is not a drill!"

Abigail turned to tell the two new recruits to prepare for battle, but they were both running to the bomber unit docks before the words could leave her mouth. As if by pure instinct, Lillian jumped into her B-24A bomber units and her black cat familiar appeared as she prepared for takeoff and grabbed her two .50 cals. Stephanie also got into her B-17G units as her bald eagle familiar appeared and she grabbed her .50 cal. Their engines roared to life as they shouted, "Diamond Lil and Yankee Lady, launching!"

The duo roared into the sky, on a direct intercept course with the enemy contacts as Abigail scratched her head in exasperation and jumped into her B-17G units to follow them. Her mockingbird familiar appeared as she revved her bomber units and took off after them. As she flew towards the enemy formation, she wondered why none of the other witches had managed to take off yet. What she did not know, was that a few hours earlier, some of the sleep deprived repair crews had not completed maintenance on the other bomber units. They had gone up the line of bomber unit docks, and finished working on Stephanie, Lillian, and Abigail's units, but after that some of them had passed out or fallen asleep.

She caught up with Stephanie and Lillian eventually, as they neared the intercept point. "Contact! One large type Neuroi, dead ahead!" Lillian called out. "I see it, moving to engage!" Stephanie responded. "I'll confuse it with my special attack. Facade!" Abigail shouted as several false images of her appeared and flew around to confuse the Neuroi's targeting system. The Neuroi itself was immense in size, and looked like an armored Zeppelin at first glance. As soon as Abigail activated her ability, it uttered an angry shriek and opened fire on her. Meanwhile, Lillian approached it from 6 o'clock low and strafed its underside with her dual .50 cals. This aggravated the behemoth even more, as it tried to hit the young witch, who flew underneath it inverted, shooting upwards into it with her machine guns. By this time, she had bought enough time for Stephanie to get to the enemy's broadside as she focused and called out "Starstorm!" Immediately, a large, 5-point star appeared in her hand as she took a deep breath, and threw it with both hands at the Neuroi, its sharp point burying itself deep into the foe's outer skin. As it stuck there, it began flashing red, white, and blue as it detonated with as much force as a 500 pound bomb, and destroyed the core. Lillian squealed happily as the monstrosity began disintegrating into what looked like little white flakes.

"Wow… good job girls!" Abigail said, with a smile. "I'm sure you'll fit in with us, just fine. Let's go home."

"Thank you ma'am!" they both said, saluting proudly as they followed her back to the aerodrome.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Black Thursday**

That evening, when Abigail, Stephanie and Lillian returned to the aerodrome, they were met by the strange sight of their fellow bomber witches lined up at the hangar door, along with several weary repair crews. Upon closer inspection, it appeared General Lemay was speaking to them personally, as they flew in and docked their bomber units.

"Just in time ladies, you ought to hear this as well." Lemay said in his typical gruff voice.

The three curiously dismounted from their unit docks, and joined their fellow witches.

"Ladies, as you can see, our repair crew is a miserable sight right now. They have been absolutely exhausted due to the recent attacks by the Neuroi on our base. They're tired, they can't work properly, and some of them have passed out from lack of energy, which is why some of you didn't get up today." He said, gesturing to the crews who looked like a bunch of zombies. "As of today, these fellows will no longer be assigned to maintenance for your unit, and they will only service the main B-17 groups."

"If I may sir, what are we to do about repairs then?" Jamie asked inquisitively.

Lemay took another puff of his pipe, and began again. "We've hired some very special young ladies, who will be servicing the 8th Joint Strike Force from now on starting today." He gestured to three girls as they walked around the corner, through the open hangar doors. "Meet your new repair team, Geraldine "Rosie" Doyle, Connie Palacioz, and Joselyn Giambrone."

The three girls were quite the spectacle for the now twelve bomber witches. Each of began to politely introduce themselves in front of the 8th JSF.

The first girl had short black hair tied up in a red bonnet with white polka dots, and blue denim coveralls. Her fast paced speech quickly identified her as a northern girl from Michigan. "Hi everyone! Geraldine Doyle, at your service, but you can call me Rosie! Need rivits on your bomber units? I'm your girl!" She rolled up her right sleeve and flexed her fairly well toned biceps. "If you think I can't be a mechanic since I'm a girl from Ann Arbor, I'll gladly prove you wrong!"

The second girl had curly light brown hair, and wore a similar outfit of blue denim coveralls, a red bonnet with white polka dots, and wore glasses. She spoke with a very calm voice, though thoroughly articulated and clear in her speech. "Good evening girls, Connie Palacioz of Wichita, Kansas, at your service. Any job you need, from riveting to simple repairs, I've got your back. You worry about the fighting, and leave the repairs to us. Just try to bring it back in one piece." She grinned, holding a special rivet gun in her left hand.

The third girl had blue denim coveralls, dark brown eyes, a cloth cap, short brown hair and could wield a wrench better than half the male mechanics at Wycombe. "Hey girls," She said with a crooked grin. "Joselyn Giambrone at your service."

At this Roberta perked up, as Joselyn noticed her and they locked gazes briefly.

"Thank you ladies." Lemay said, taking the lead again. "Now then, I don't want to be late for dinner tonight. You're dismissed, girls!" He said, as they promptly saluted him. "At ease!" He returned the salute and walked out with his secretary close on his heels. The repair crews wearily filed out of the hangar, but the bomber witches began chatting with the two riveter girls, and having a merry conversation as they walked over to the mess hall for dinner.

"So, how much do you know about repairing bomber units?" Roberta asked.

"Trust us, we've been working on heavy bombers since we got out of high school, and we're some of the best workers in the production facility. We've got your back." Connie reassured her.

"Well, let me just say that I feel much more confident with girls like you on the job. Not everybody can maintain our units correctly, and we often have to do some repairs ourselves." said Samantha.

"Oh don't worry, I'll take care of you better than my boyfriend Charlie!" Rosie grinned.

"But he's out on the beaches fighting as a marine, how could you be taking care of him still?" Connie wondered.

"Well yes, Charlie is a marine, but I'm protecting him by working overtime on the riveting machines. The more weapons we can crank out for our allies, the higher their chances are of winning this war. The sooner we win the war, the sooner Charlie can come back to me. That's how I see it, anyways." Rosie said cheerfully.

"If you say so… Anyways, let's go get some dinner, I'm famished!" Connie exclaimed as she started walking towards the mess hall.

The rest of them followed her, with the same thought on their minds, and they had a lovely dinner of country fried steak and mashed potatoes with gravy. As they and other bomber crews enjoyed the delicious meal, they did not realize it was to boost their morale for the battle tomorrow…

After dinner, Joselyn managed to pull Roberta aside and talk to her. "Hey girl. How you been?" Joselyn smiled.

"I've been doing very well here, actually." Roberta replied.

"Well, just remember, if you need anyone to bring you back from the dead, just call me." Joselyn winked.

"Oh c'mon Jo! I've gotten better since we last met in Bassingbourne, you needn't worry so much..." Roberta pleaded.

"Hah. That's not what the guys told me. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. K?" Joselyn said as she patted Roberta on the head and headed for the hanger.

"Well, at least she's around now. I feel much better knowing she's got the floor." Roberta sighed, heading to her barracks.

When the sun came up the next day, the aerodrome was already buzzing with activity. The B-17's were being fueled up, B-24's from other bases were already taking off for their targets, and a squadron of P-47 escorts were getting ready on a neighboring airfield.

Meanwhile, Jamie was conducting her usual task of briefing the bomber witches, and the mechanic girls were curious, so they sat in as well to listen.

"Now then, today is a very important day, but I'm sure you already knew that. We're going deep into occupied Karlsland, to Schweinfurt." Her hawk familiar appeared as she used her ability to project a map into the center of the room. "So, this is the production hive at Schweinfurt. If we can hit them hard enough today, we should be able to slow down the Neuroi production, which will benefit our boys on the ground."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but, 'should?' You don't know for sure if this plan will work or not?" Alice asked worriedly.

"Alice, I'm not sure of many things these days. But if we have a chance at helping the war effort, we need to do everything we can to help out." Jamie replied firmly.

"Ok, anyways… So here's the plan. We'll be going up with about two hundred and twenty-nine B-17's, and there's also a squadron of twenty-nine B-24's going up today after a different facility. We will be having P-47 escorts from the 56th Operations Group today as well, which is a welcome change of pace, but don't rely on them too much. There's only so much fighter escort can do in the face of the Neuroi…" Jamie said sternly.

"Can you confirm if they have drop tanks? If they do, they should have decent range to cover us." Lillian asked inquisitively.

"I cannot confirm that, that's why I'm saying don't rely on their cover. If they get low on fuel and have to bug out, we'll be on our own. Understood? Now, you know what the target looks like, so we should start getting up if we don't want to be left behind. Let's move out, Bomber Witches!" Jamie called out imperatively.

"Yes ma'am!" They replied instinctively.

"You girls have fun, and make sure you come back in one piece. We'll be waiting for you in the hangar when you get back." Rosie winked at them.

"Don't worry, the Bomber Witches will always get through!" Alice shouted back as they went out the door.

"Those girls… They're real sweethearts…" Connie said with a sigh.

"Yeah, but some of them might not be very responsible. In which case, it's your back that'll break trying to fix their units." Rosie laughed, while Connie rolled her eyes and walked out. "Hey come back! Of course I'd help you if that happened…" Rosie pleaded, as she followed Connie out of the room.

A few hours later, somewhere over Cologne, Karlsland…

The Bomber Witches were an impressive sight that day, being 12 witches now, and flying alongside two hundred and ninety-one of Liberion's B-17 bombers. Twenty-nine Liberators were also sent up that day, but they were diverted to Emden because of bad weather over their initial target. The force was split into three groups, each group escorted by a squadron of P-47 Thunderbolt fighters. But for some reason, whether by mistake or by choice, they were not employing the use of external drop tanks for extra range. This concerned Jamie all the more, because even though the 8th had become quite skilled at aerial defense, a mission without fighter support was extremely risky for the other bombers. The witches were tough, but their bomber units weren't made for dogfighting, and so they couldn't go chasing after Neuroi and defend almost 300 bombers with twelve girls. Limited chatter occurred on the radio, mostly bomber crews cracking jokes with the fighter pilots, trying to entertain themselves on the long haul. All of a sudden, some of them began saying, "Yeah, I'm getting low on fuel, need to head back soon." One squadron at a time, the P-47's turned back to base, leaving the fleet of B-17's behind like a lonely cloud drifting along.

Suddenly, Samantha's voice was heard over the radio channel. "Hey girls? Shit just got real..."

"No need for swearing on the comms, Samantha, it's not ladylike. What's the issue?" Jamie asked worriedly.

"Well I've intercepted signals that the Neuroi are approaching quickly and aggressively. I can't quite predict the number of fighters, but after we go through the flak zone they're probably going to hit us from all sides."

"Well, this is where the fun begins. Roberta and Esther, cover the rear left of the formation. Alice and Abigail, you've got the rear right. Thelma and Pauline, you take the center position. Lillian and Stephanie, you've got the left waist of the group. Natalya and Bridget, you'll be guarding the right waist. Samantha and I will cover the head of the formation. Once we break out of the flak, keep your eyes peeled and shoot anything that approaches, I don't want a horsefly getting through, understood?" Jamie instructed in her demanding tone.

There was a pause, and then they all acknowledged the radio and as they moved into position and set their shields up to protect them from flak shrapnel. Just moments later, small black puffs appeared in the sky before them. Though they looked like harmless little clouds, they were actually bursts of shrapnel, intended to cause extensive damage to whatever it hit, be it the airframe, control surfaces, or the engines. But on rare occasions, a flak shell might hit a bomber in the bomb bay, and thereby detonate its deadly payload. One might think it were easy to avoid these attacks, being launched from the ground to altitudes of twenty-five thousand feet. But such people would be dismayed to find that there could be hundreds of guns on the ground firing in rapid succession. As the bomber fleet approached, they were soon surrounded by puffs of flak bursting around them.

After five minutes of intense barrage, the flak ceased and the witches lowered their shields.

"Well that wasn't so bad..." said a gunner from the lead bomber.

"That was easy. Too easy. Something's wrong..." the lead pilot said, as he slowly breathed through his oxygen mask.

Samantha then perked up, her ability activating as her eyes began to glow. "Air disturbance detected. Engine noise. Expect fighters to be in visible range soon."

The gunners of the lead bomber shifted their eyes about, breathing steadily through their oxygen masks as they scanned the sky, guns at the ready. The dorsal gunner turned his turret slowly, and then he looked up just in time to see a flash of light above him.

"12 O'CLOCK HIGH!" he yelled as the Neuroi appeared like a swarm. He opened fire with his machine guns, and after a moment's delay the other bombers followed suit.

The Neuroi poured in from all directions, with their laser cannons firing everywhere at the B-17's. The witches were doing their best to defend the ships, but it wasn't as though they could dogfight with a dedicated fighter. One ship was hit in the port outer engine and burst into flames. Another was cut at the fuselage, and as the tail tumbled through the air, it almost hit Alice. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, evading the tail section and fragments. It was a horrible sight, as she saw eye to eye with the tail gunner, as he was desperately trying to get out.

"We need to step it up girls!" Jamie said as she blasted a heavy fighter with her huge cannon. But try as they might, the friendly ships were dwindling just as fast as the fighters could be shot down. In the span of 10 minutes, seventy-seven ships had been shot down or rammed, and a hundred twenty-one more were severely damaged. But in that same amount of time, seventy-four of the enemy fighters were shot down, and another twenty were crippled. As the witches counted their losses, Jamie came to a conclusion. "With only ninety-three ships, we're well below strike capacity girls... We should probably scrub the mission."

"But we came this far, why would we give up now?" Roberta asked in frustration. "Won't these men have died in vain if we give up now?"

"Captain Morgan, that's quite enough. If we continue to Schweinfurt, we're going to lose even more lives." Jamie replied firmly. "We're heading back. Is that understood?"

There was a silent acknowledgement, as the fleet turned around and began limping back to Brittania. They couldn't bring live bombs back to base, for fear of it detonating from the landing impact, so they had planned in advance to ditch their bombs over a Neuroi camp near Dunkirk. As they dropped their bombs, there were several flashes on the ground.

"That's strange, the bombs couldn't possibly have hit yet..." Thelma muttered. "Perhaps-" She was interrupted as flak boomed in the sky, creating immense black clouds.

"Flak incoming! They've got one twenty-eights!" Samantha yelled as they began evasive maneuvers.

Meanwhile Roberta was still brooding over Jamie's response to her. It angered her to be denied revenge like that. She wasn't paying attention, just as one of the guns had targeted her.

"Roberta, get moving! They're gonna-!" Jamie tried to warn her.

Roberta tried to evade, but it was too late, and one of the AA guns exploded near her right bomber unit. "Dammit!" She yelled as her now unbalanced bomber units caused her to enter the infamous spiral of doom.

"She's out of control..." Alice said as she watched as Roberta fell through the clouds, a spiral trail of smoke behind her.

"Roberta! No!" Esther screamed as she was about to dive after her.

But Jamie grabbed her by the arm, and shook her head. "I know you want to save her, but we've had enough losses for today." Her voice began to quiver. "I love my girls, but losing two would be more heartbreaking than losing one."

"But... She's my sister!" Esther began to cry as Roberta faded from view, becoming just a speck that she could no longer visually track. "ROBERTA!" She screamed and burst into tears. It became difficult for her to continue flight, and Alice had to come hold her up by the shoulder. It was difficult for them to sympathize with her, since none of them had closely related sisters in the Air Force. Even so, they all shared a feeling of grief, knowing that she had fallen in such a way.

"I feel partially responsible... I know I was doing my job by making an executive decision, but I shouldn't have spoken to her like that..." Jamie hung her head, and flew next to Thelma as a cloud of guilt hung over her head. The fleet kept flying back to base, and many of the gunners were in tears as well, since Roberta had been a symbol of morale to them for so long.

"Memphis Belle... She was definitely a queen of the sky..." One of the pilots said. "She will be missed dearly."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: An Unexpected Savior**

The countryside of Gallia was once a beautiful place, but ever since the war it always seemed quiet and gloomy, as if it were the end of the world for them. A young brunette girl clad in blue exited a farmhouse, as she walked towards the barn to tend to the animals. But while crossing the small field, she noticed something in the grass.

"Oh? What's this red thing?" She asked herself as she drew closer. "A fox? Non... It is... A person? Or perhaps both? Hmm..."

A twisted metal object with Liberion markings lay stuck in the ground, with strange words she had never seen. "M-Memphis... Belle? What does that mean?" Taking a look around, she did her best to pull the girl into the barn, and left her there as she went to go get a wash basin and some medical supplies. Several minutes later, the wounds had been cleaned up and bound with clean bandages. As she examined closer, the girl's eyelids opened, revealing two beautiful, emerald green eyes.

"Oh? You are awake mademoiselle?" The girl looked at her curiously.

"Agh... Where am I? And why do I hurt so much?" She clutched her arms as the pain was felt quite sharply.

"I see, you were completely unconscious. Well, you are in Gallia, my friend." The brunette replied.

"Gallia huh... Fancy that. My name's Roberta. Roberta Morgan, and you?"

"Eh?" The young girl was surprised at the Liberion's manners, but consented to giving her name. "M-Maria. Maria Le Croux." She said quietly, looking away slightly.

"Maria... That's a beautiful name..." she smiled warmly.

"N-no it's not! Don't say things like that!" she said, getting quite red in the face.

"Gee, aren't you a shy girl. By the way, have you seen anything that looked like an aircraft engine around where you found me?"

"Perhaps. I saw something that looked like a small bomber, but it was well beyond repair."

"Well shoot. How am I going to get back to Brittania now...?" she pondered.

"Brittania? That's just across the channel, oui? The Port of Dunkirk is not far from here."

"Yes, but that's suicide. Port of Dunkirk has a heavy Neuroi presence, I'd be seen and shot for sure if I tried to swim. Not that I could with these wounds..." she muttered.

"I-if you're interested, I may be able to help you. N-not that I want to of course, I'm just trying to be generous!" she said hastily, looking quite flustered.

Roberta looked on curiously, as Maria went over to a crate and opened it. As the side slid off, it revealed a very strange machine with Free Gallian Air Force markings.

"This is a secret weapon the Foreign Legion's engineers have been working on. It is quite similar to the units you may have used, but it is much older. This model is called the Bloch MB.162 and it is the only long range bomber unit we have made so far. As one might imagine our resources are very limited."

The injured bomber witch limped closer and examined the unit closely. "Does it fly?"

"Well, it's had a little bit of testing, but we never mass produced it. This is the only prototype."

"Eh? Is that so? I'd love to test it, but..." She sighed, looking at her bandaged leg and arm.

"Um... I was the only test pilot, actually..." Maria slowly admitted.

"You? You flew this thing?"

"Back in the early stages of the war, yes. Not into combat obviously, I cannot stand watching my countrymen die..." she said with a sad tone in her voice, looking down at the ground.

"But you could fly it, right? Do you think you could get me to High Wycombe?"

"I could try... But I cannot carry you and a weapon so we'd be defenseless. We will have to go after dark."

"Defenseless? I could incinerate anything I come in contact with." As she said this, she held her hand up, and a fireball the size of her palm floated just above her skin.

"...point taken. We leave at nightfall, please get some rest."

"Do you have any food?"

Without another word, Maria left the barn and shut the door as she ran to the house. Upon returning, she brought half a baguette, a little bit of red wine, and some canned luncheon meat.

Upon seeing the corned beef being removed from the can, Roberta suddenly thought back to all those times the Brittanian soldiers complained about it. "Never thought I'd be eating this stuff. Can't complain though, you do what you have to."

"I could get you some goat meat if you would prefer that..."

"No, this is fine." she answered hastily. The food was gratefully consumed, followed by the small bit of red wine to wash it down. Unfortunately, Roberta had never felt the effects of alcoholic drinks before, and she immediately fell asleep. Maria laughed a little bit, and then slept next to her, readying herself for the journey.

Meanwhile, over in High Wycombe...

It had only been a few hours since the witches had returned with the bombers. Rosie and Connie were bustling about the hangar, repairing their bomber units, but the witches had bigger problems. Jamie was sitting in her office, with a guilt cloud hanging over her head. Meanwhile Esther had been refusing food and drink, and would not leave her bed at all as she continued to mourn for her lost sister. The rest of the girls were skeptical about how to handle this, and they were trying their best to get the two back on their feet. They all sat in the barracks, discussing ideas amongst one another.

"Maybe we should get her some jewelry? A diamond ring would be best." Lillian suggested.

"I really don't think that would help... And are diamonds all you think about?" Bridget laughed.

Lillian began staring at her with a challenging flare in her eyes. Suddenly, Stephanie broke the silence with a suggestion. "Singing always cheers me up..."

"That's actually not a bad idea." Natalya remarked.

"I concur. In fact, there's another party tonight, we should get her on stage." Alice chimed in.

"It's settled then. We're getting her to that party, besides, I know she can sing pretty well. She'll never admit it, but I've heard her singing when she's in the shower and it's quite beautiful." Samantha added.

Everyone stopped to look at her, a slight blush on all of their faces.

"And how would you know this?" Thelma asked her with a challenging tone in her voice.

"I have super hearing, remember?" Samantha glared at her. "I'm not some peeping tomcat."

"Sure..." Thelma winked at her.

"But I don't need super hearing to know that when you sing, you sound like someone stepped on your tail." She chuckled.

Thelma looked indignant, but Pauline calmly grabbed her shoulder, silently communicating that it wasn't worth it.

A few hours later, night had fallen upon Gallia, and Maria gently woke Roberta up.

"Mademoiselle Roberta? Wake up please, it is time to go, my friend." She pushed on Roberta and tried to roll her over. This turned out to be quite the mistake, as Roberta was still off in dreamland, and grabbed her in her sleep. Maria's face turned bright red as Roberta hugged her like a big teddy bear.

"Mrs. Roberta? Ah, um..."

Roberta cuddled her more, nuzzling her face against Maria's red hot cheeks. One might wonder what she was dreaming about, but Maria was more concerned about the girl's embarrassing sleep habits.

"S'il vous plaît arrêter..." she whimpered as she tried to break free from her grip. Finally a successful attempt was made, unfortunately she ended up accidentally hitting the bandaged wounds. Roberta awoke with a sharp cry, and clutched her arm.

"What the hell?! Oh, it's you Maria..."

"My sincerest apologies... It's time to go."

"I still don't see why you would kick me to wake me up though... And why is your face all red?"

"It's nothing... Now we must hurry while it is dark." Saying this, the girl straightened out her blue uniform, and activated her Chartreux familiar. After some effort, the young Gallian managed to set her bomber units upright, and put her legs into them. Starting the engines was not an easy task, and it took several minutes of coughing and sputtering before they roared to life.

"This thing does fly… right?" Roberta said, looking at her curiously.

"But of course. Now open the barn doors s'il vous plaît, and once outside I will do my best to carry you."

"If you say so. You don't look very strong to me." Roberta said, advancing towards the door.

"Well it could be worse. At least you're not fat. In fact, you have a very nice body..."

Upon hearing this, Roberta glanced at her, and noticed where her line of sight was pointing at. "Don't worry, you're not done growing yet, you still stand a good chance."

"W-what are you suggesting?! I wasn't referring to anything like that..."

Roberta simply smiled at her flustered reaction, as she pushed the doors open. "Alright, let's go."

"Daccord. Hold on tight Miss Morgan."

Without another word, Maria wrapped her arms firmly around Roberta's waist, and smiled as they began ascending into the sky. They began heading towards the channel, flying just above the treetops, with only celestial navigation to lead them to High Wycombe.

Back at the aerodrome, it was nothing more than the usual. The base controllers sat in the tower drinking tea as they watched their primitive radar screens, commander LeMay discussed battle plans with other generals, and while the mechanics worked laboriously, the air crews were having a party to liven their spirits. The bomber witches were present at this party, though Jamie was in the war room with LeMay. After some intense coaxing, they had convinced Esther to sing a song on stage, saying that it would lift her spirits a bit. Surprisingly, she agreed to it, and after several dances and songs had passed, the girl hesitantly mounted the stage. Clad in her frilly blue dress with black garter belt and white stockings, blue heels and a summer hat with a blue ribbon, she was a spectacle for the crowd. Taking the microphone, she took a deep breath and introduced herself.

"H-hello everyone..." Her soft voice echoed through the room. "My name is Esther Morgan, you may know my sister Roberta, who is currently MIA... Well, this song is dedicated to her." She took a deep breath, and began to sing to the tune of Londonderry Air, but with different lyrics, which fit the mood quite well.

"Oh Memphis Belle, the pipes, the pipes are calling...

From glen to glen, and down the mountainside

The summers gone, and all the leaves are falling

'Tis you, 'Tis you, must go and I must bide"

Here her voice swelled, as the crowd listened in awe of her beautiful voice.

"But come ye back, when summer's in the Meadow

Or when the valleys hushed and white with snow

And I'll be here, in sunshine or in shadow...

Oh Memphis Belle, oh Memphis Belle... I... I love you so...!"

Here she could not hold it anymore, and dropped to her knees, and sobbed vehemently.

Nobody noticed the doors open, as two more people entered the room, and then a voice was heard, followed by slow clapping.

"Man what a sad song. Who died?" A familiar voice said.

The entire room turned around, and the crowd split in half dramatically to reveal a young girl in a Gallian Legionnaire uniform, and leaning on her shoulder was a girl with a bandaged arm and leg, red hair, and a soiled red dress.

As Esther suddenly realized what was going on, her teary face was overtaken with shock, and she began to run towards them. Running through the parted crowd with outstretched arms, she cried, "ROBERTA!"

The two embraced each other in a memorable scene, as Maria simply looked away. Thinking her job was done, she began to sneak away, just as Roberta said, "Hey, don't leave."

"Eh?"

"Why don't you stay here with us? We could use even more courageous people like you."

"I don't know..."

"You don't really have another option. Your bomber units need some heavy tuning, and I'm sure Rosie and Connie could fix it for you."

"Well... Alright..." She said with a smile.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now then." Turning to Esther, she said. "I really missed you sis." While saying this, Esther found herself being drawn closer, as Roberta firmly kissed her on the cheek.

Maria blushed intensely, her face turning red as a beet. "Is there not an ounce of shame in your entire body?!" She yelled.

The rest of the crowd simply laughed, and the other bomber witches followed suit.

"That's our Roberta." Alice smiled.

"Ah, things are back to normal again..." Pauline sighed.

"The gang's all back together again," Samantha chuckled.

There was a large group hug, as the witches embraced both their new comrade and returning star. It was a heartwarming sight to say the least. Meanwhile, there was an uproar in the control tower. Apparently, LeMay did not take kindly to allowing unidentified contacts through, even if they later proved to be friendly. Jamie watched this scenario, and simply shook her head as she walked away.

As the band started playing lovely tunes again, the girls danced with the crowd, including Roberta despite her wounds, and they were simply having a great time. Just then, the doors opened to reveal a very annoyed Jamie.

"What's all this commotion-" Stopping dead in her tracks, she locked eyes with Roberta. "You hardheaded bastard. I thought I'd never see your face again. You just never give up do you...?" With tears in her eyes, Jamie walked closer and hugged Roberta, a sight that surprised everyone. "Welcome home Captain Morgan."

"Thank you Commander Doolittle. That means so much to me."

Turning to everyone else, Jamie surprised them again. "You can keep the party going for half an hour more, but after that get some rest. We're going to be very busy tomorrow."

At this, Esther smiled, and took Roberta by the hand as she walked back onstage. Her sister's face was clearly filled with inquiry, but then Esther continued her song.

"But come ye back, when all the leaves are dying

If I am dead, as dead I well may be

You'll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say, an ave there for me

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me

And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be

And you will bend, and tell me that you love me

And I will sleep in peace until you come to me..."

"That was beautiful, Esther..." Roberta said as a tear ran down her smiling face. The crowd cheered tremendously, as Esther blushed slightly in embarrassment.

"Well, if it was for you, of course I would give it my all..." She smiled. "Welcome back, my Memphis Belle." As she said this, Esther wrapped her arms around Roberta and hugged her tightly. It was the most beautiful sight the witches, or the air crews for that matter, had ever seen.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Rosie the Riveter**

Over the next couple of days, Joselyn had been working around the clock to repair Roberta's bomber units. Joselyn was a strange girl. Whenever it came to her and Roberta's needs, she would not let anyone interfere. Rosie and Connie learned not to bother her when it came to such matters, for she always got this look in her eyes as though her wrench was about to become a shotput. Nevertheless, Joselyn was a hard worker, and after two days of nonstop work, she presented the complete bomber units to Roberta. "Here you go Morgan. Two B-17F units sparkling clean with your name on 'em."

"Thank you Joselyn. You've worked hard today." Roberta smiled.

"And yesterday." She wiped her hands on a rag. "And the day before that. Just do me a favor, don't let me see you like that again, ok? I don't like it when you get hurt." Joselyn frowned slightly.

"Thank you Jo. I'll try my best. Now, you should get something to eat and then rest." She said, leading her to the mess hall.

Meanwhile, Rosie and Connie were working on the rest of the bomber units when a young officer walked into the maintenance hangar.

"Oh hey there. You looking for somebody?" Rosie asked.

"Rosie, I presume? Bridget's father sent in a package for her this morning. It requires someone of your expertise however..." The officer replied nervously.

"That so? Then let's have a look." Connie said, putting her tools down.

A few moments and four burly grease monkeys later, Rosie and Connie were faced with a large crate, and an invoice receipt.

"The heck is this?" Connie wondered, adjusting her glasses to read it. "One modified munition mount, capacity 10,200kg..." Here she stopped, and re-read that sentence a few times. "10,200... Kilograms... What the hell have they come up with now...?"

"I'm glad you asked." The officer smiled. "You see, the Brittanian scientists have begun to design racks for bomber units, which allow them to carry higher payloads. The Americans have done similar things, like the M10 bomb rack for the B-17G, but nothing comes close to this. Once fitted to Bridget's Lancaster units, it will allow her to carry a single bomb weighing 10,200 kilograms that will drop at supersonic speeds and pierce several feet of earth before exploding. The resulting explosion is similar to a seismic tremor, which can create underground caverns and collapse any surface structures."

"Wow." Connie responded. "Has this been tested?"

"It has been. But it only works on modified Lancasters, and the B-29. There was talk of a six engine Brittanian aircraft, the 'Victory Bomber,' that would carry it but the project never got off the ground."

"Well, let's get to work then." Rosie patted Connie on the back. "Bring Bristol Belle's units over, we'll get this hooked up in a jiffy."

"Just like with Alice and Abigail's M10 racks. Shouldn't be a problem." Connie smiled.

In the mess hall, Joselyn and Roberta were sitting at one of the tables, and having a chat over lunch. It was meat and potato stew, a favorite on the base. But Joselyn seemed rather worried, and hadn't touched her food.

"What's wrong, Jo?" Roberta asked.

"I don't know." Joselyn sighed. "It's just, I worry about you. I know any day now they're gonna send you girls to Berlin, and... I'm very concerned after what happened on your last mission."

Roberta frowned slightly, and rested her head on her hand. "You worry too much."

"I can't help it. After all we've been through, you're like family to me..."

Roberta smiled a little. "Remember when I went on my twenty fifth mission?"

"Yeah."

"I'd never seen you more stressed out. I had flown twenty-four sorties and come back with a few scratches, and it never seemed like a big deal. But I remember on the morning of May 17th, you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"Rightfully so. The mechanic is just as important as the bomber. When I do my job, I do the very best I can, each and every time. Because I wouldn't want something to go wrong that would be my fault. To know that it was your twenty-fifth though, and that after that you would complete your tour of duty, I felt happiness and sadness at the same time. Not to mention all the pressure, running the checks multiple times, so many times I could recite every one in my sleep."

"And do you remember the result of that mission?"

Joselyn chuckled. "I remember it like it was yesterday. I counted those bombers, one by one, but I didn't see you. Then, I spot the last three contacts coming in to land. All I remember in the seconds that followed were seeing a red flash, as this hotshot pilot buzzed the airfield like she was at an airshow." Joselyn shook her head. "I've never been more relieved to see you though."

"Well guess what? Just like my twenty-fifth mission, we're going to come back safely, and there'll be a huge party for everyone - even the mechanics. So cheer up." Roberta smiled.

"...that reminds me. Rosie and Connie are probably wondering where I went dawdling off to."

"Oh relax. They probably figured you went on a date with me." Roberta said, nonchalantly sipping her drink.

Joselyn blushed a little. "I'll see you later Roberta. You take care, ok?"

"Always." Roberta waved to her as Joselyn ran out the door.

In the war room at High Wycombe, Jamie was discussing tactics with General LeMay.

"So, Miss Doolittle-" Curtiss began before he was interrupted.

"I find that quite informal. Please call me Lt. Col., if you don't mind." Jamie corrected.

"You're right. Let's get to business then. The Red army has just broken through Seelow Heights, and is gathering with armored divisions from the other nations for the final assault on Berlin. However, if we hope to destroy the Neuroi base in the square, it's going to take something much more accurate that can hit harder. After all, part of their complex probably connects to underground war shelters."

"Precisely why we're going in, right?" Jamie inquired.

"Well, I had something else in mind." Lemay smirked. "You see, we have developed a new type of weapon known as the 'Grand Slam.' It penetrates the ground at supersonic speed, and then explodes and causes underground tremors. This effect is much like an earthquake. For that reason, we have given Bridget a modification for her units, which will allow her to carry this deadly strike. However, it will consume most of her energy. There is a possibility that after launching the attack, she'll pass out and need assistance."

"So... We're just going to escort the princess?" Jamie scoffed.

"Yes. We will use it to destroy the fortifications the Neuroi created around the center. Once that's done, it'll be a milk run."

"Somehow, I have my doubts." Jamie crossed her arms.

"Trust me Jamie. If we can break through, and saturate them with bombs, the war will be over that much quicker." Lemay sighed.

"I just think that we would need some backup to make up for Bridget..." Jamie suggested.

"Well, funny you should mention that." Lemay's face brightened up. "I have a witch who's currently unassigned to any groups, she's been somewhat of a freelance witch up to now. But she does have quite the record, given her situation."

"Go on..." Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"I knew you'd be interested." Curtiss smiled. "Her name is Justine Bay, call sign Piccadilly Lily II. Her main weapon is rather unusual, it's an M1 Bazooka. She has become quite accustomed to it though, which gives her a rather high rate of fire, around fifteen rockets per minute."

"Impressive. Where is she currently?"

"Stationed at RAF Essex. I can have her up here in a couple hours."

"That would be great. This is going to be our biggest battle yet, we need all the help we can get."

"Agreed. I'll have her on the next C-47 to High Wycombe."

"I'll take care of it if anything happens. Keep me updated, General." Jamie said, saluting him.

"You know Col. Doolittle..." He began.

"What is it?" She asked.

"What do you plan to do once this war is over?"

"I plan to continue serving the Air Force, in any way I can."

"But you know, you can't stay here forever. Don't you want to have the chance of a normal life?" Curtiss said, pacing the room and halting in front of a window.

"Just what are you getting at?"

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, once this war is over, I'm planning to propose to a very special young lady."

Jamie stood in complete silence, as he turned around and smiled at her. "Surely you don't mean...?"

Curtiss simply smiled at her, before sitting in his chair. "We'll talk more about it later. I'm sure you have to go prepare for tomorrow."

"Uh... Yeah... Thank you Curtiss. I'll definitely make you proud." Jamie said, blushing as she walked out of his office.

Meanwhile, at RAF Essex...

Justine had just come back from a bombing mission at Hanover, and was heading to the hangar. As she docked her B-17G bomber units, an officer came running up to her.

"Ms. Justine, you have an urgent telegram from High Wycombe. You're to be on the next C-47 going northbound."

The blonde girl turned around, her red dress lifting slightly in the breeze. "Thank you officer, I'll pack my bags and be right there." She smiled. "Seems like General Lemay finally needs me..."


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Attero Dominatus**

It was a cold, dreary day at Seelow Heights. The overcast clouds sailed along gloomily, as Marshal Georgy Zhukov gathered with a force of nearly two and a half million men. Six thousand tanks were gathered from all the different nations, from Liberion Sherman's and Brittanian Churchill's, to Karlsland Tiger's, and Orussian IS-2's. A complement of two hundred and fifty artillery pieces sat behind these armored divisions, including Katyusha rocket launchers, hundred fifty-two millimeter field howitzers, and even Karsland's massive Karl-Gerat, a six-hundred millimeter siege mortar. All of these fine weapons had been gathered on that day to decide the fate of humanity. As the Marshal looked out at the Neuroi infested fortress from the burning "Gates of Berlin" ninety kilometers away, he sent a radio message to General LeMay, to call in the attack coordinates.

Curtiss sat in his office, while his secretary plotted target points on the map of Berlin. "Thank you Marshal, the 8th will be on their way after briefing." He responded, signaling the radio operator. "Alright, so we know that there is an outer defensive perimeter around Berlin. Once the ground forces break through there, they will lay siege against the inner wall before storming the city's center. Which is where we believe the core is, our primary target." He handed a copy of the map to Jamie, who left to go brief the witches. Curtiss rested his head in his hands, setting his pipe down. "I really hope we can pull this off..." He muttered.

In the 8th's briefing room, the girls were all chatting as Jamie walked in. Excitement was mounting at the thought that this could be the battle that would end the war. The buzzing talk subsided, however, as Jamie took the floor.

"Girls, you are the best group of witches I have ever known. I've fought beside you for many years, and you are all like family to me. But today, I need one last favor of you. We are going to Berlin, to crush the Neuroi and liberate Karlsland."

An uproarious cheer followed, as the girls shouted in glee. But Jamie soon calmed them down again.

"Keep in mind though, that we must never give up our resolve to fight, to reclaim the peace that was taken from us. Now, here is your mission briefing." Jamie paused for a moment, to project a hologram of Berlin in front of the room. It looked like Berlin, but it was ugly and black, nearly consumed by the Neuroi structures. "Marshal Zhukov will lead a force of two and a half million men, and six thousand tanks to storm the outer fortifications. The two hundred and fifty artillery pieces behind them will be supporting. A Karl-Gerat is with them, it is a sixty centimeter siege mortar that should be able to knock their walls down. However, it is handicapped by a rate of fire of about one round every ten minutes. So it is our job to go into the city center, and clear the way for the ground forces. Bridget?"

"Yes ma'am?" The Brittanian looked up.

"You are the VIP for this mission. You will be carrying a ten thousand and two hundred kilogram bomb known as the Grand Slam. When you drop it, it will reach supersonic speed and pierce several hundred feet of the earth. When it detonates, it will be like an earthquake, and there will be a gigantic crater."

"I understand. I will do my best, ma'am."

"The rest of you are to hold off on your bombloads until we see the result of Bridget's attack. Until then, we will protect her. Alice, Abigail, and Stephanie, you will be utilizing the M10 racks for increased payload."

"Understood." The three B-17G witches responded.

"One more thing. We have a special operative here to accompany us on this mission. Girls, meet Justine Bay."

Justine walked into the room, with her red dress catching everyone's eye. What made her even more impressive was the M1 Bazooka she shouldered, as she walked up to the podium. "Thank you Jamie, I'm glad to be serving with you girls today."

"More fresh blood, Huh? Curtiss, where do you find these girls..." Thelma smiled and muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?" Justine looked quite offended. "I'm not a rookie. I just haven't been assigned to any units recently, so I've been freelancing and accompanying other bomb groups on various missions."

"My apologies... It's good to have you with us..." Thelma said, feeling very embarrassed.

"Anyways, my name is Justine Bay, my call sign is Piccadilly Lily II, my bomber unit is the B-17G, my familiar is the falcon, and my ability is Drone Strike."

"Drone Strike? What's that?" Roberta asked.

"Well, in addition to being a bomber witch, on occasion I would also fly target drones for the Air Force. I can use my ability to take control of a non-occupied plane and fly it via telepathic methods."

"What good is that?" Thelma said, crossing her arms.

"It means that if you load a plane full of thermite and there's nobody inside, I can fly it to the target via telepathy." Justine stated. "It's much safer than having a pilot fly it there and bail out."

"That's true. I suppose that would be useful." Thelma admitted.

"So, are you all clear on our mission briefing?" Jamie asked.

"Yes ma'am, we'll make you proud!" Alice said.

"Good. We've been together for a long time, girls. For what it's worth," Jamie stood and saluted them, as they returned the salute. "Now get your gear together, and let's go liberate Karlsland!"

A cheer filled the room, as the witches ran out to the hangar. Rosie and Connie had been working all night with Joselyn to get Bridget's modifications ready, not to mention full overhauls for all the witches. Needless to say, they were very tired, but they presented the bomber units with a smile and salute as the girls geared up.

"Well, I didn't expect it to be quite this bulky..." Bridget said, getting into her Lancaster units.

"Don't mind that, just focus on your mission. We did our job, now it's your turn." Rosie smiled.

"Thank you for everything, Rosie, Connie, Joselyn. You've all been a massive help. We'll see you soon!" Roberta said to them.

Joselyn took Roberta by the arm, just as the other girls were streaming out of the hangar. "Promise me... That you'll come back safely." She whispered gently.

"Don't worry. It'll be just like my twenty-fifth mission. Remember, The Bomber Witches will always get through." Roberta smiled.

Joselyn's face lit up with her crooked smile, as Roberta left the hangar. The witches met up at the end of the runway, as they were given takeoff clearance. Jamie and Samantha took off first, followed by Roberta and Esther. As Bridget took off, it looked as though she wasn't going to make it off the ground, but Justine wrapped arms around her, and gave her an extra lift. The rest of the witches followed, as the formation rose into the sky, heading for Karlsland.

Curtiss looked out his window, watching them until they disappeared into the clouds. Then he sent a radio message to Marshal Zhukov. "Package is on the way. Standby for delivery. Good luck."

Georgy Zhukov received the message a few minutes later, and gave his units the order to advance. "Listen up comrades! I want you to serve me Berlin on a plate! Disregard the losses, the city is ours to take!" The men cheered, as the infantry and armor divisions began to advance. The artillery units zeroed in on the outer wall, which looked comparable to the Siegfried Line, and opened fire. The immense high-explosive shells streamed through the air and struck the defenses with incredible power. The Karl-Great fired, kicking up dust for miles as its shell punched through the wall. The armada advanced through it, a million grenades in hand. They were greeted by hundreds of thousands of Neuroi, who immediately opened fire on them.

Meanwhile, five miles above Seelow Heights, another battle was taking place, as the Neuroi engaged the Bomber Witches in the sky. It had been an expected fight, but the Neuroi were getting desperate, and the fact that their own fighters were in the sky did not halt the flak batteries on the ground.

"Flak so thick you could walk on it... So this is what they meant." Pauline muttered.

"Hold the line girls! Focus fire up front!" Jamie cried as they were bombarded by flak and fighters. "Protect Bridget!"

"We must get through, or this operation will fail..." Roberta said to herself, squeezing off a burst of armor piercing incendiary bullets.

Another Neuroi formation tore through the clouds, but they were chewed up by fifty caliber machine gun fire. The witches were flying almost shoulder to shoulder, and determined to get through. Down below, they could see the ground forces advancing slowly but surely, as the tanks demolished the anti-aircraft guns.

"Well, that's better. We should be nearing the drop point soon, so don't let your guard down." Jamie said, reloading her seventy-five millimeter gun.

"That should be most of them though, they're running out of fighters to send after us." Samantha noted, checking her scanners.

"We've arrived at the Initial Point, initiating bomb run!" Bridget said, activating her bomb sight. She stared through the magic sight, as the crosshair moved slowly across the city. It passed over the ground forces, and the inner wall, until it lined up with a predetermined point in the center of the city, where a massive hive lay. "That's it. I see the target! Bombs away!" Bridget called, as the massive bomb was released and hurtled towards the earth with tremendous speed. Even a few of the soldiers stopped to watch, as it broke the sound barrier and pierced the ground with its steel tip. Several seconds passed, as the bomb slipped below the surface. Soon after that, a tremor shook the ground and the target disappeared in a black cloud of smoke. The inner wall shattered from the quake, as the ground beneath it collapsed. From above, it looked as though a small meteor had hit the earth. It looked safe, so the witches began descending to survey the damage.

"I didn't see a core... or any silvery shards. What's going on?" Thelma wondered.

"But the explosion was massive, there's no way they could've survived that." Pauline noted.

"Well we can't leave until this operation is over." Samantha said, as a radio call crackled through.

"This is Marshal Zhukov. Please respond!" The Orussian commander called out over the radio.

"Yes Marshal, Miss Pick Up here, what's your situation?" Samantha responded.

"The enemy is in full retreat! They're disappearing into a hole in the ground!" He said.

"A hole? But what could they possibly do underground?" Samantha was perplexed.

"The Berlin U-bahn." Natalya said coldly. "They're fleeing into the Metro."

Roberta watched worriedly, as the Neuroi streamed underground like ants to their anthill.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Grunewald**

Zhukov and his men stood in confusion, watching as the throng of Neuroi streamed into the tunnels, some of them still burning from the explosion. The witches flew by at low altitude, watching as well.

"The metro? Why on earth would they go there?" Alice asked Natalya.

"Well… The only reason I can think of is that there's much more beneath the surface." Natalya concluded. "Meaning that their stronghold extends into the Berlin U-bahn."

"I never did think of that. Those crafty bastards... "Jamie said, tightening the grip on her cannon.

"Well, change of plans then." Samantha said, as she tuned into the ground force frequency. "Miss Pick Up to Marshal Zhukov, do you copy? Over."

"This is Marshal Zhukov. The Neuroi are fleeing into the metro system. What should we do?" He asked worriedly.

Samantha was perplexed that such a general would ask her for advice. "Um… why are you asking me? You're the highest in chain of command here."

"Yes, but we have never experienced a situation like this. Subterranean combat is unheard of, especially with armored vehicles." He argued.

"Well the Neuroi don't seem to be giving us a choice." Samantha answered flatly.

"We need to regroup and form a new strategy." Jamie barked. "And get me a map of the tunnel system ASAP."

A few minutes later, Jamie was handed a map of the U-bahn, which stretched all over Berlin. Upon studying the various lines underneath the city, she radioed back to the Marshal. "Marshal Zhukov, I need you to send a few Sherman's and one of the Churchill's to the depot at Grunewald. Trust me, I have a plan."

"Roger that. I don't quite understand what you're getting at, but I'll do it. 6th Armored Division, proceed to the Grunewald depot!"

The M4 platoon roared to life, their radial engines powering them along the ground towards the maintenance yard, with some of the marines riding on the engine deck. The bulky Churchill Mark VI followed closely behind them, the commander drinking a cup of tea as they rumbled along.

"Samantha, give me an official sitrep." Jamie ordered.

"Right away ma'am. As of now, we have only lost a fourth of our total force, mostly the heavy tanks, because they couldn't evade the enemy's attacks. The infantry still has a considerable amount of strength, but they could use a morale boost. Artillery is still in play, none of them were lost but ammunition supply is low. And, the 6th Armored Division is moving toward Grunewald, as you just ordered. The other witches are flying combat air patrol over the target area." Samantha said, without missing a beat.

"You really are something, Sam." Jamie remarked. "What kind of Shermans does 6th AD have?"

"They have two M4A3's armed with hundred five millimeter howitzers, three M4A2's armed with seventy six millimeter M1A1 guns, three M4A1's armed with seventy five millimeter M3 guns, a Sherman VC Firefly armed with the seventeen pounder mark VII, an Easy 8 armed with a seventy six millimeter M1A2 gun, and a Sherman Crocodile armed with a flamethrower. Plus the Churchill Mark VI following them with its seventy five millimeter mark V."

"Okay, so here's the plan. Grunewald is obviously not going to be left unguarded. The Neuroi aren't that stupid. So the 6th AD will infiltrate the rail yard while Justine, Natalya, Stephanie, and Lillian provide close air support. Once the rail yard is captured, we will load some of the tanks onto flatbed cars, and shuttle them into the tunnel."

"What?! Lt. Col., what are you thinking?!" Samantha gasped in shock.

"Somebody has to go in. We can't send a normal recon team into the tunnels, they'd be shredded like cabbage. We don't know what's down there yet, other than the Neuroi, and a world of darkness. The howitzer armed Shermans will be very useful in destroying obstructions, but it's possible they could also collapse parts of the tunnel if they're not careful. But the long barrels of the 76mm M1A1 and the 17-pdr won't be able to turn more than ninety degrees in a close quarter combat area like that. The M4A1's, the Crocodile, and the Churchill are our best bet."

"Are you really serious about this, Lt. Col.? They could die in there…" Samantha whimpered.

Jamie sighed, and looked off at the horizon. "Nobody lives forever, Sam… But that doesn't mean I'm going to waste several hundred lives today. This operation will succeed. You have to trust me, just like the Doolittle Raid back in '42. It may have been stupid, but it worked. So it wasn't stupid. The same applies here."

"Well, I guess you're right." Samantha said, brightening up and smiling. "You've always been an exceptional commander, we've got every reason to trust your judgement. I will follow you to the very end, Jamie." The strawberry blonde girl saluted.

"Hey. Don't start giving epitaphs just yet." Jamie smirked. "We've got a battle, no... A war to win."

Meanwhile at Grunewald, the 6th Armored Division was advancing into the rail depot. The commander of the Easy 8 stuck his head out of the hatch and looked around. His light blue eyes scanned for anything that might try and jump out at them. At a single hand motion, he signaled the other tanks to stop, just before they breached the tree line. Slicking back his dirty brown mohawk, he peered around through a pair of binoculars. "This is command tank, call sign 'Furious,' all tanks check in." He barked over the radio.

"Echo 1, checking in." "Echo 5, present and accounted for." "Echo 7, ready and waiting." The three M4A1's responded.

"Hell on Wheels, ready for action." "Godspeed, in position." "Panther, raring to go." The three M4A2 (76)'s called in.

"Fireball checking in, let's rip 'em a new one!" "Bombastic, ready to fire. Hue." The M4A3 (105)'s reported.

"Halo 10 here, ready when you are!" The Firefly chirped.

"Dragon's Jaw, let's light this candle." A gruff voice in the Sherman Crocodile said.

A pause occurred, before the last member was heard over the radio. He set his tea down and flicked on his intercom. "Oh right, Roadblock here. Let's get this show on the road, boys." The Brittanian commander called in from his Churchill.

"Everyone present and accounted for?" Furious' commander asked. "Good. Olympia-Stadion station is off to our left, the service hangar is in front of us. We're going to break through the tree line, find cover, and advance with caution. Echo one, five, and seven, fan out and provide forward reconnaissance. Hell on Wheels, Godspeed, and Panther, head for the station and standby. Fireball and Bombastic, head for the tunnel entrance. Don't let any of them get in or out. Understand? Halo 10, take up over watch position on the bridge overlooking the rail yard. Dragon's Jaw, stick close to Roadblock and slowly advance towards the service hangar. We'll cover you. Does everybody understand their job?"

There was a general consensus, as someone called out, "Roger that Furious. We'll make Uncle Sam proud!"

The steel armada advanced out of the trees. Everything was quiet, for now. Grunewald was not in the best shape, it had been damaged by a flight of B-26 Marauder's earlier in the month, and a few wreckages lay strewn across the ground that had impacted into the now overturned railcars. Only two available tracks led into the southeast bound tunnel, the others were obstructed or had been destroyed. The tanks fanned out, still no sign of the enemy. Naturally some of the younger crews were getting nervous, specifically Echo platoon, who were practically new recruits out of high school. The veteran tankers gritted their teeth, looking through their observation periscopes and panning their view around. The Firefly advanced to the road, eventually perching itself on the bridge. But due to the terrible gun depression of the awkwardly mounted 17-pdr, they used the wreckage of a car, reversing onto its crushed engine block, to elevate the rear of their tank, which gave them a better angle. The howitzer armed Shermans set up at the tunnel entrance, one pointing it's turret into the darkness, the other searching the horizon for targets. The Sherman 76's got into the station, using the depressed areas and broken walls as hull down positions, exposing only their much stronger turret. Just then, .50 caliber gunfire rang out from Echo 1, as some sort of Neuroi tank zoomed out of a nearby suburb. Flat, fast, and armed with a long barreled gun, the Neuroified tank screamed around the rail yard, .50 cal pinging off of it. It closely resembled the Entwicklung series of tanks, particularly the E-10 that was rumored to be under construction still. Echo 5 and 7 turned their turrets, tracking it with their 75mm M3 guns, and fired their high explosive rounds. The smoke cleared, but scorch marks suggested that their gunnery skills were not the best. The pancake-like tank was now facing them. Its gun glowing and ready to fire, when a high velocity round came whizzing out of nowhere and pinned it to the ground. The resulting explosion could only have meant a detonation of the ammo rack, as Halo 10 called out, "How many times do I have to save your asses, rookies? Steady traversing, that's all it takes." He said, patting his Firefly on the turret.

"Don't get too confident, that was surely a scout. An E-10, probably." Furious barked over the radio. "We've got more incoming, Roadblock, angle your hull and engage them! Dragon's Jaw, get hull down behind Roadblock! Echo 1, 5, and 7, pull back and form a defensive perimeter. Hell on Wheels, Godspeed, and Panther, get in cover, and aim towards the village."

No sooner had he finished his command, when a much larger, turreted tank appeared, crushing houses as it approached them. It resembled an E-50, a prototype designed by Entwicklung as a replacement for the Panther I and II. Several more of them followed, along with E-25 prototype tank destroyers, and a couple more E-10's.

"Everyone dig in, we've got to hold the line! Don't let them get to the service hangar, or the tunnel entrance!" Furious yelled as Fireball and Bombastic turned their attention to the new threat and fired their howitzers. Fireball's shot missed, while Bombastic struck an E-25 in the tracks, causing it to swerve. An E-50 ran over it, unable to stop its massive inertia, crushing the already flat tank under its immense weight. But the incredible seven hundred horsepower engine propelled the sixty ton tank forward, shrugging off shots from Echo platoon like an angry bull. But rushing was not the most viable tactic in this situation, and it didn't seem to notice the tanks in the station, as Godspeed pierced the enemy's side with a 76mm shell. The E-50 slowly rolled to a stop, engine smoking, but that didn't stop it from turning its turret and firing wildly at the station. A shot from the Firefly punched through the left side of its turret, knocking the gun out and silencing the beast.

Roadblock was having trouble of their own, as an E-25 advanced towards them at flank speed. The Churchill aimed, fired, and its shell sailed right over the flat panzer, not even a scratch. "Reload, and fire again." The Commander calmly said. "Aim for its tracks." Another shot came out of the barrel, breaking the enemy's tracks and sending it spinning into a literal train wreck. "Once more, just to make sure." He said with composure, not wanting to take any unnecessary risks. A final shot into the fighting compartment wrote it off, as the Neuroi was consumed with fire.

Another row of Neuroi advanced, and something much larger could be seen off in the distance. Judging from the size, and the box-like shape, it could either be the Entwicklung 100, or even the Panzer VIII Maus. Beyond their vision were other variants of the E-100, including the Geschutzwagen E-100, a twenty-one centimeter Morser carrier, the Flakpanzer E-100, a carrier for dual twelve point eight centimeter anti-aircraft guns, and the Jagdpanzer E-100, a casemate style tank destroyer mounting the seventeen centimeter Kanone. Hell on Wheels spotted them, and radioed back to Furious, who decided it was time for some air support. As Hell on Wheels put it, "We got some biiiiiiiiig bastards incoming. Call in the Bomber Witches." "Roger that," Furious responded, changing frequencies. "Bombers, do you read me? This is Furious' commander, we need air support, northwest of the Olympia-Stadion. Huge targets, you can't miss 'em."

"Copy that, hang tight and keep your heads down, boys." Justine answered, before looking over at Natalya. "Ok, here's the plan girls. Natalya, I want you to use your stealth ability to make a sneak attack on the enemy, while at the same time marking targets for us. Stephanie, Lillian, and I will do a follow up attack and strike those Goliaths."

Natalya nodded, and yelled, "Khitrost!" as she blended in with her surroundings and flew towards the target. About a mile out, she began thinking of her beloved 588th Night Bomber Regiment, and began to sing softly as she was reminded of them. "Canvas wings of death, prepare to meet your faaaate. Night bomber regiment, 588…" She flew over the turret of an E-100 heavy tank in the rail yard, releasing three 500 pound bombs with delay fuses near it. "Undetected, unexpected, wings of glory, tell their story. Aviation, deviation, undetected, stealth perfected." She smiled as the medium sized bombs exploded, sending shrapnel through its soft underbelly armor and setting it ablaze. "Russian To Get Ya here, I've taken out an enemy heavy tank. There's another one approaching, with what looks to be a tank destroyer modification as well, and a dual-gun version, probably a self-propelled anti-aircraft tank. I can see two large artillery pieces in the distance as well."

"Good work Natalya. Fall back and wait for us. That SPAA takes priority, Lillian, take out the Flakpanzer E-100. Steph, you nail that heavy tank. I'll go for the Jageroo, and we'll meet up to crush the artillery after that with our remaining ordinance."

"You got it hon!" Lillian winked, and sped towards the gargantuan flakpanzer. It tried to aim at her, but the large guns were working against it with their slow traverse. It dramatically aimed those monstrous guns, and fired a laser at her. The entire tank was shrouded from the firing exhaust and Lillian responded with Diamond Prism, reflecting the laser back to the point of origin. The laser re-entered the tank through the barrel, with pinpoint precision, blasting back through the breech and detonating about a ton of ammunition inside the turret. "Now who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" She teased, as a pillar of smoke rose into the air.

"Couldn't you say something more mature?" Stephanie sighed, charging the E-100. The Neuroi only caught a glimpse of her red, white, and blue outfit as she dropped thousand pound bombs on top of it. Before it could even fire the fifteen centimeter gun, a bomb pierced the armor and blew the turret off of its hull. "And the rocket's red glaaaaaaaaaaaare!" Her voice rang out crystal clear.

"Nice job girls, now it's my turn." Justine smirked, approaching the mighty Jagdpanzer E-100. Her thousand pound bombs hurtled towards it and exploded all around the tank. The tracks were blown off, but it was still in fighting condition as its front still faced the 6th AD. "Darn, my aim was a bit off. But no time for a second run, I'm going for the arty!" Justine called out, firing her M1 Bazooka at the lighter armored 210mm gun carriage. Needless to say, the howitzer shells detonated on impact, and destroyed one of the artillery pieces. "Well there's a perfect shot. We're out of bombs for now, Furious. Sorry. We're pulling back now, good luck!"

Furious' commander just watched as the four girls buzzed past, and then stared wide-eyed at the Jageroo looking at them. It was immobile, certainly. But it was still a fortress, and it was pointed at them. The tank destroyer traversed its gun, aiming for the bridge. "Halo 10! Get out of there!" Furious yelled, as the Firefly acknowledged the threat and tried to back up. The car, still behind them, prevented that from happening, so the driver tried to move them forward. Just then, disaster struck as the Jageroo's 17cm Kanon let loose with a mighty roar. The heavy shell flew towards the Firefly, but missed slightly and hit the bridge. That was all that it needed though, as the edge crumbled beneath Halo 10 and the tank began to teeter. "Halo 10! Throw it in reverse!" Furious yelled over the radio, to which Halo 10 responded, "Ah, it's no good. The driver is dead. He and the transmission were shredded from fragmentation entering the underside armor. Tell Zhukov we did our best, and please… Tell my wife I love her…" The commander ended transmission as the tank teetered and fell off the bridge, striking the ground in front of Fireball and Bombastic. The 17-pdr shells fell out of the ammo rack and detonated, causing a chain reaction that eliminated all signs of life inside. "HALO!" They all yelled as the burning Sherman VC's turret fell off, and oxygen fueled the fire, consuming everything inside.

"Dammit… Damn those Neuroi… They were good boys, real good, maybe even the best….. DAMMIT!" Furious' commander slammed his fist into the turret ring with a loud thud. Just then, Roadblock came in over the radio. "Furious, it's no use. We have to keep fighting without them." The Brittanian said calmly.

"How can you be so calm? How can you be so fucking calm?! We just lost our best tank, and four of our best men!" He snapped back.

"Remember what you told me last time this happened?" Roadblock said, sipping his tea. "Ideals are peaceful. History is violent. You think it can't get worse? It can, and it will…" As he finished saying this, the remaining GW E-100 fired a 210mm howitzer shot, which struck Olympia-Stadion station with tremendous force.

"Hell on Wheels, Godspeed, Panther, get out of there!" Furious yelled as the concrete ceiling collapsed on them.

"We're still alive sir, don't know for how long though… the escape hatches are blocked… I think we may just suffocate in here…" Hell on Wheels radioed weakly.

"Godspeed here, we're not moving anytime soon. Engine's busted and there's concrete everywhere. I can see Hell on Wheels' gun sticking out of there…" He said, worriedly. "Where's Panther?" He panned his observation hatch around. "...shit! Panther was crushed to pieces… probably hit directly near them and crushed the tank. Those poor bastards…"

"Alright. So we're down four tanks now, in effect…" Furious said slowly. "Ok… here's what we gotta do. Roadblock, Dragon's Jaw, get to the service hangar now and find some flatbed cars. If there aren't any, make some. The Bomber Witches should be coming soon to demolish the rest of those tanks-" As he said this, Thelma and Pauline flew overhead, sending the Jageroo up in flames and putting the GW out of commission. "Thanks girls." Furious radioed to them as they waved back.

"Sorry we couldn't have been here sooner…" Pauline apologized.

"It can't be helped. Get a rescue team to Olympia-Stadion, and see if you can dig them out. We also need to move the Firefly off of the tracks, and get some flatbed cars arranged in a train." Furious ordered.

As the Bomber Witches flew overhead, they were followed by a C-47 Skytrain, which was carrying tools and a supply drop. The door on the side opened, and four white parachutes descended to the ground. One crate of supplies, and three females dressed in coveralls.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Train Wreck**

Rosie, Connie, and Jocelyn descended from the skies, landing next to the supply crate on the soil of Grunewald. "Right then, show us the tanks and we'll see what's what." Rosie smiled. "We're the Riveter girls from High Wycombe, but we'll be in your care for this operation."

The three witches attached cables to the command tank, forming a sort of harness. Once the weight had been spread out, they attempted to lift the forty ton tank, as Jocelyn found an engine and shunted a flatbed car underneath them. The strain was incredible, and the wind was not making things any easier as the tank swayed precariously in the air. "Be careful with that!" Furious' commander barked, as Justine, Lillian, Stephanie, and Natalya strained to lift the Easy 8 onto a flatbed car. "It's my home."

"We get it. You said that before, you needn't say it again." Justine growled at him, as they set the tank down and set blocks in place to keep it from sliding off. "Where's Rosie at?" She asked, wiping her forehead.

"Down here." Rosie said, hopping off of a small diesel shunter engine. "You should be grateful, I barely know how to operate these things. It's not as simple as just throwing a lever." She sighed.

"Right on time, Rosie." Justine smiled at her. "Get these tanks in place, bolt those blocks down around them so they don't tip. But make sure they have a way to get off in case of an emergency, don't fasten the tracks to the car."

"Relax... We worked in factories assembling things like this before we came to High Wycombe. Trust us." Connie said with a reassuring smile.

"Ok. I'll leave it to you then. Furious, how are we gonna do this?" Justine looked over at the Easy 8 commander.

"Well," He pulled out a map. "According to Lt. Col. Doolittle's plan, we should be heading towards the Zoologischer Garten station, where we'll meet up with the rest of the 8th. We have no pinpoint on the Neuroi's center of resistance, so it could be anywhere between here and Gleisdreieck. But Furious can't lead the charge, because its long gun can't turn well within these tunnels. They were made for Kleinprofil, or small profile, trains and I don't think the designers thought a tank battle would take place here." He laughed, lighting a cigarette.

"So what do you propose then?" Justine crossed her arms and began tapping her foot.

The man paused, as he took a quick puff, then said, "Echo 1, 5, and 7 will be on the first section of train, and followed by Hell on Wheels, Bombastic, and Furious. We'll also need a coach or two, to carry the other witches in. And I hope you girls are up for on the move gunnery." He chuckled.

Lillian pulled back the bolts on both of her M2's and held them up Rambo style. "I dual wield these babies in air to air combat. How hard could it be? Besides, the Bomber Witches will always get through."

"Well you've got determination, I'll give you that. Just try to be fluid and adapt to the situation if it should change." He dropped his cigarette, and snuffed it out with his boot. "6th Armored Division, mount up, and move out!"

"The war's not going anywhere..." Stephanie laughed to herself.

Soon the Shermans were locked into place on the flatbed cars, with Echo platoon at the front, Furious, Hell on Wheels, and Bombastic in the middle, then Roadblock and Dragon's Jaw on the rear guard. Though they probably wouldn't need a flamethrower, it was kept on the rear of the train just in case. The crews hopped into their tanks, after restocking ammunition and loading their coaxial machine guns with armor piercing incendiary rounds. Flatbeds with quad mounted anti-aircraft guns were also mounted, for the sections of track that breached the surface. As an extra precaution, the train was powered in the center by an armored class 57 0-10-0 steam locomotive, which would serve as protection for the bomber witches, and the main engine. As the tank crews mounted their vehicles, Stephanie and Lillian powered up the train, shoveling coal into the firebox as the vacuum brakes were released on all cars. "Alright girls, here we go!" Justine called out, as the groaned and lurched forwards. The heavy laden caravan trundled down the bend, towards the tunnel that would lead to Zoologischer Garten. The crew of Furious popped their heads out of their hatches, just in time to see the burning Firefly next to the entrance. "Don't worry Halo 10," The commander said. "Your death will not be in vain." They saluted, before disappearing into their hatches again, as the darkness of the tunnel engulfed them.

Meanwhile, at Zoologischer Garten, the seven other Bomber Witches paced through the station, while Marshal Georgy Zhukov looked on doubtfully. After what seemed like an hour of waiting patiently on the platform, they felt the ground rumble, increasing in intensity, until a horn sounded, and lanterns illuminated the tunnel. The witches watched in awe as the train of tanks and railcars rumbled into the station, screeching as the brake engaged. They came to a halt at the platform, the air brakes hissing as the train stopped. The doors of the yellow train cars opened, revealing the other witches in the passenger carriage. "All aboard!" Stephanie said happily from the armored locomotive, as the seven girls boarded the trains. Zhukov stayed behind with some of his men, as his IS-2's engine rumbled outside. He saluted them, doubtful as he was, and the trains were loaded up. Justine was on the second train with Furious, as she closed the doors. The brakes disengaged, and the peculiar train accelerated, rumbling off into the darkness.

"Well, I have to trust them." Georgy said to himself. "The Bomber Witches have to get through. And they will. Or else we're all doomed..." He put his hat on, and walked outside to his command IS-2, mounting the tank and settling in the commander's hatch. "This is Marshal Zhukov. All heavy tanks, fall back to Seelow Heights. This is a precaution, in case things take a turn for the worst." He said over the radio.

Down below the streets of Berlin, the Kleinprofil trains rumbled through the tunnels, the tanks creaking on their flatbed cars. They rounded another turn, as Jamie called out, "We're coming up on Wittenbergplatz, keep your eyes peeled." Suddenly, the fluorescent lights in the station began to pop, one by one, and the lighting diminished. "That's not good…" Jamie muttered. "Keep your guns at the ready, be on the lookout for anything. All tanks, turn your searchlights on!"

The dimly lit station brightened up, as the Shermans and Churchill lit up the tunnels with their lights. Suddenly, a small red glow was seen in the distance, as Furious turned their lights on it. A small Neuroi, possibly a scout, shrieked at them and began racing down the rail line. "Echo 1, pop that sucker!" Furious yelled.

The M4A1 turned its turret, and fired an armor piercing shell from its 75mm gun. The shell struck the Neuroi, claiming Echo 1's first kill. But the shot echoed into the darkness, alerting the Neuroi hiding ahead of them. A slight rumbling was heard, as it grew, louder and louder, climaxing to a screech. "Oh." Echo 1's commander said fearfully, as another train appeared out of a siding, and began speeding away from them, firing lasers as it attempted to escape.

"Shields!" Jamie yelled, as the witches put their shields up in front of the train. "Lil, Steph, full speed ahead! Maybe they'll lead us to the hive!" The train began to pick up speed, groaning under the weight of the Shermans, as they pursued the Neuroi. As they began to close in on the enemy train, Jamie's voice came over the radio again. "Ok, here's the deal: all armored tanks are forbidden to fire until I give the order. There should be a switch up ahead, at which point the enemy train may change tracks. You cannot fire while they're in front of us, or we'll collide with them. Once we get alongside them, then you have permission to tear them to shreds."

"In other words, play it smart." Roadblock's commander stated bluntly.

"6 o'clock, more damn Neuroi. We're sandwiched in between them!" Dragon's Jaw yelled as a swarm of black creatures began catching up to the vanguard. "Commander! Permission to fire?"

Without waiting for Jamie's approval, Furious responded. "Light 'em up. Let 'em have a taste of your morning breath, Dragon's Jaw."

"Hehehe…" The gruff tanker chuckled to himself, connecting a line from the napalm tanks to the Crocodile's flamethrower. "It's like Christmas morning…" He said, as a blue pilot flame ignited, and the napalm fuel surged forward out of the gun. Upon contacting the pilot flame, the incendiary fluid ignited, lighting up the tunnel with fiery destruction. Like an angry dragon, the Sherman Crocodile began burning the enemies to ashes, but they kept on coming despite that. Meanwhile, at the front of the train, the snake-like Neuroi changed to an adjacent track, as the tanks came alongside it. "All tanks, prepare to fire!" Furious barked, as the Shermans turned their guns towards the enemy. Neuroi in humanoid form emerged from the cars, firing lasers out the windows, just as Bombastic targeted them and fired an explosive shell. The 105mm shell didn't have very good penetration, but it had just enough to pierce the rail car and explode, sending the car up in flames as it came apart and went tumbling down the tracks behind them, taking a few more of the swarm with it. "Good shot, Bombastic!" Jamie called out, as they picked up speed and closed in on the midsection of the enemy. Here, Echo 1, 5, and 7 fired their guns, ripping apart another railcar with their explosive shot. But the enemy weren't giving up that easily, as the portion of track ahead was exposed, and they raced out onto an open track. The sun was still managing to shine through holes in the overcast sky, and a swarm of aerial Neuroi was patrolling overhead.

Jamie muttered something under her breath, before ordering Bridget and Natalya to engage them with the anti-aircraft guns. Uncovering the dual mount Bofors on the extra flatbed cars, they hopped into the seat and began loading the dual mounted 40mm flak guns. Pauline took the opportunity to jump into the Browning .50 cal quad mount, and began traversing her sights skyward. As the enemy patrol noticed them and began diving, Natalya let out a burst of high-explosive fragmentation shells, shattering the first two attackers. Pauline targeted the second group, managing to kill four more as they tried to hit the Churchill. Even Furious started firing, with their .50 caliber machine gun, downing two more Neuroi just before they re-entered the tunnels.

"Bridget, Natalya, Pauline, get back here!" Jamie barked as the three witches made their way back to the front. Just then, the train shook as Hell on Wheels lobbed another shell at the enemy train, causing it to explode and tumble into a support.

"Shit!" Furious yelled. "More speed! We gotta move, or the tunnel will collapse on us!"

The steel caravan plowed on, as the tunnel crumbled behind them. Stephanie was shoveling coal like mad, as Lillian carefully monitored the gauges. They just barely managed to make it into the next section of track, as the tunnel behind them was barricaded by rubble. More Neuroi appeared in front of the train, and Echo 1 fired a shot to distract them, as the metal stampede rushed on through. They ploughed through the enemy, killing them upon impact.

"Damn, they nearly got us…" Jamie remarked as she caught her breath.

"No shit." Justine coughed. "Where are we now?"

"We should be at Bülowstraße now." Jamie said, looking at her map. "We'd better dismount here, and continue on foot. I have a feeling they're nearby."

The train reached the Bülowstraße platform, and stopped as the witches got off. The tankers got out, but wouldn't be much use on foot as they only had small arms weapons and sub-machine guns. Keeping this in mind, Samantha memorized the tank crew's radio frequency, and told them she would signal if they needed help. The witches walked further into the tunnel, darkness enveloping them. Once or twice a harmless rat would skitter by, and it was difficult to hold fire, especially for Esther. Rounding a curve, they saw a red glow in the distance, followed by a low growl as it was clearly aware of their presence. Jamie held her hand up, signaling them to stop as Natalya pulled out her M1911 sidearm pistol and sent a .45 ACP cartridge right through its head. The sound echoed in the tunnel, but not as much as a .50 caliber machine gun would.

"Probably a scout." Natalya smirked. "Better to fire a small round at it then to let it get away. Risk assessment, you see."

"We're not out of the woods yet, stay on your toes." Jamie snapped. They went a few more meters further, before an intense red glow blinded them. As their eyes adjusted, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was the core. The red hexagonal sphere was like a monument to the evil that plagued Berlin, but how could they stop it? There were Neuroi nests all around it. One wrong move would leave them in a huge firefight, and needless to say, the witches had better experience in air combat than ground combat.

"Alright, what's your grand plan, Doolittle?" Justine asked.

"Here's what I think. We can't fly in this narrow space and bomb them, and there's no way a bomb would reach them this far down if we dropped from above. So, as much as I hate to say it, we'll have to use the train…" Jamie's voice trailed off.

"It's actually not a bad idea." Justine began. "The Sherman uses a radial engine which runs on high octane aviation fuel, so it's extremely flammable. Not to mention the M4A3 (105) has all that high explosive ammo. But how will we get the crews to agree?"

"As cruel as this sounds, we're at war. And we must do what it takes to end this conflict." Jamie stated flatly. "Let's get back to the train."

A few minutes later, at Bülowstraße, the witches explained their strategy to Furious' commander. The other tank crews were present as well, and their ears were red hot. "You want us to do WHAT?!" Furious yelled at them. "After all we've been through, you want us to destroy our tanks?! We have to survive, there needs to be something to remind the people what we went through here today. And… besides, our tanks are the places we grew up in as men. They're our homes…!"

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Jamie glared at him. "It's either your tanks, or an entire army. Your tanks, or an entire army dies. Pick."

"But it's suicide…" He laughed nervously.

"Don't worry." Justine stepped in between them. "I'll use my Drone Strike ability to remotely drive the train into the tunnel. Thelma, Pauline, rig some explosives to the fuel tanks."

"Roger." They replied solemnly, entering the tanks and applying detonators to the inside of the tank.

"The rest of you, take the stairway and get to the surface. Notify Zhukov of our plans if he hasn't already ordered an evac." Justine ordered.

The other witches nodded, and escorted the tank crews up to the surface, but the army of liberators was miles away by now. Although they did manage to find a bus in the station, which they borrowed in the absence of their bomber units.

Meanwhile, the blond Liberion was trying to focus all of her energy, as she managed to start up the train's engine and get it going. Her mind was filled with the visualization of the steam cylinders and pistons, powering the train and sending it forwards as she clutched the detonator switch in her hand. The train snaked around the bend, and she jumped off near the opening to the Neuroi hive. "Good luck." She said, patting the tanks and the train. The effect of her ability decreased as distance increased, so she concentrated, and sent it full throttle down the tracks. It took a while to build momentum, and as the wheels screeched and sparked, the Neuroi appeared to be waking. There was a growing screech, a cry of panic and fear as they tried to attack the bomb-laden train. Justine jammed the throttle wide open, and ran back to the platform as fast as her legs would take her. Counting down the seconds in her mind, she visualized the train as it struck a wreckage, sending one of the Shermans lurching into the core. Just as she neared the stairway, Justine pressed the detonator, as the volatile aviation fuels in the tanks erupted in flames, igniting the ammunition, and setting off a chain reaction that filled the tunnel with fire. It was visible too, as Justine raced up the steps, and realized she had no way to get out of the blast range. Just then, she heard her name being called from a distance.

"Justiiiiiiiiiiiine!" A voice called out.

"Wha-?" The blonde girl said confusedly as she was caught up by something, or someone, and began gaining altitude as the subterranean core exploded violently, leaving a humongous crater where it used to be. Coming to the realization that she was a thousand feet in the air now, Justine looked up to see who her savior was. "You really are one crazy son of a bitch. I wish we had more of you." A redheaded girl said to her with a smile.

"Roberta…?" Justine said in surprise.

"Yes?" The emerald eyed witch responded curiously.

"Thank you…" Justine whimpered, tears beginning to roll down her cheek.

"We're sisters in arms, we protect each other." Roberta smiled as the other witches joined her with their bomber units. Stephanie and Lillian brought Justine's units, and slipped her feet into them as she started up and hovered with them. Just then, they looked at the ground, as the blackish texture began to fade away, exposing the roads and the soil of Berlin once more. The buildings returned to their normal colors, the grass was visible again, and even the ugly structures that once plagued the city began to disintegrate away like snowflakes in sunlight. Down below, several of the IS-2 tanks loaded high explosive shells, and fired them into the air, exploding as the army saluted the witches, cheering like teenagers at a concert. The bomber witches had finally done it. They had rid Berlin of the Neuroi, and the threat was no more. People could return to their homes soon, and rebuild what was lost in those five years of war.

As for the witches, Roberta smiled at her companions, as they group hugged and began flying back to Brittania, smiling the whole way as the setting sun gleamed off their faces. Upon reaching High Wycombe, they were greeted by fireworks, and air crews rushed to meet them as they touched down on the tarmac. The crowd was ecstatic, as the witches managed their way through, getting to the commander's office by some miracle. Entering Curtiss Lemay's office, they smelled the familiar smell of his hand rolled cigars as he turned around in his chair. His solemn face was surprising at first, as Roberta reported loudly, "Mission accomplished, General Lemay!" The other witches saluted him, as his straight face broke into a smile.

"Welcome home girls. You've done a tremendously good job today." Curtiss announced, saluting them back. "Go enjoy yourselves, there's a huge party going on in the mess hall, something about an 'end of the war' or whatever." He chuckled.

The girls excitedly ran out the door, as Jamie held it open for them. Just as she was about to leave, however, Curtiss cleared his throat, and she stopped short. "What is it, general?"

Curtiss picked up something on his desk, and walked over to the window. "Jamie Doolittle, you've done an outstanding job."

"Thank you sir." Jamie responded, walking closer. "It's my duty and my pleasure."

"Well, I only have one more request of you, now that the war is over." He smiled, and looked her in the eye as her gaze met his. Kneeling down in front of her, he pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a lustrous diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"

Jamie was ecstatic, and without a doubt in her mind responded, "Yes! Absolutely!" Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as she held Curtiss close and kissed him.

Meanwhile, down at the mess hall, the party was ten times what it normally was, and the band was playing louder than ever before. They had good reason to celebrate now, as the witches were among them once more, having completed their last mission. Before they knew it, Esther and Roberta were pushed onto the stage, as the band was playing a familiar tune. Roberta recognized it, and winked at Esther as they waited out the instrumental part and held the microphones to their mouths.

"Soft lights, and eyes that promise sweet nights

Bring to my soul a longing, a thirst for love divine

In dreams I seem to hold you, to find you and enfold you

Our lips meet and our hearts, too, with a thrill so sublime

Those cool and lipid Green Eyes!

A pool wherein my love lies

So deep that in my searching for happiness, I fear

That they will ever haunt me

All through my life they'll taunt me

But will they ever want me?

Green Eyes, I love you."

They both ended with a wink to each other, as the crowd went wild and cheered for them.


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: That's No Iceberg**

As the festivities continued across Europe, there was one person who wasn't aware of Berlin's capture. A lone girl was flying through the North Sea, as her Fw-200 C-8 Condor's engines were growling along. Her hair was blonde, very light blonde, almost like snow, as her G-2 bomber jacket and black leggings shielded her from the elements. "This is Erica Brown…" She said, clutching her 13mm MG131 machine gun. "Any RAF units in the area, please respond." Her call was met with static, which was expected this far away from base. But then, a signal began to crackle through the radio. As she listened closer, it turned into a screech before the channel went silent again. "Ouch." She said, rubbing her ears. Erica had been patrolling the North Sea for almost forty-eight hours now, which was impossible without her Endurance ability. She was tasked with searching for enemy mines, submarines, anything that could pose a threat to allied shipping. But the last time she engaged in combat was a couple of weeks ago, when she dropped a "Fritz X" guided bomb on a Neuroi refueling craft. Things had been so quiet since then, almost too quiet. As the girl flew along, there was nothing but frigid water and ice for miles around. Eventually, she noticed an iceberg that was much larger than the rest, as it floated along. It didn't seem like anything to be concerned about, until a Neuroi fighter began shooting at her. "Geez, what a pain." She said, pulling out her MG131 and firing a burst into it. The fighter shattered into snowflakes, as she scratched her head. "Wait a minute… how did that guy get all the way out here? There's no way he could've flown this far from any land base…" She pondered. "Unless there really _is_ a ship out here." Erica said, turning her maritime radar on. As the pings went out, there was nothing but ice. But one of them seemed to bounce back a different signal, as though it wasn't made of ice. "Maybe that's it." The girl said, flying in the direction of the unusual ping. The unusual iceberg grew into view, and soon she noticed that it was strangely well shaped, for an iceberg. The edges were too straight, and the surface was too flat and well formed. And it was… making steam? And launching planes? "That's no iceberg…" Erica said in horror, as she snapped some pictures and set course for the nearest RAF base. By this time, she already had fighters tracking her, and tried to fire over her shoulder as the Fw-200 units strained from the Wartime Emergency Power. "C'mon… I just need to get in radio range…" She muttered. "Dammit." Erica cursed, firing another burst behind her. Suddenly, the radio crackled to life, and she homed in on the signal. "Any RAF units in the area, please respond. This is Erica Brown, callsign 'Wandervogel,' I am under attack by enemy fighters and request assistance, over."

The radio was silent, before a seemingly drunk Brittanian voice responded. "This is RAF Horsham St. Faith, what can we do for you? Don't you know it's the end of the war?"

"Whether the war is over or not, I have fighters on my tail and need backup! Over!" Erica yelled.

"Oh bollocks." The controller muttered, seeing the contacts on his radar. "Scrambling the Spitfires. Hang in there, Wandervogel."

Meanwhile in High Wycombe, the party was still going hard, as the bomber crews danced and drank merrily. The girls of the 8th JSF were having a good time as well, sharing dances with B-17 pilots and gunners as the band played without rest. Jamie was in the midst of the crowd, dancing with Curtiss Lemay, when a radio officer came running into the room. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd. "Lt. Col. Doolittle! Commander Lemay!" He shouted.

"What in blazes, boy. Can't you see I'm busy?" Lemay snapped.

"Urgent telegram from RAF Horsham St. Faith, sir. It's about Project Habakkuk-"

Suddenly, Lemay caught the young man by his collar. "Fool!" He whispered hoarsely. "Don't say that out loud! Come with me." He said, pulling the radio officer outside, as Jamie followed from a distance. Once outside, he set the boy straight and allowed him to fix his collar. "What's this about Habakkuk? We abandoned that thing in 1943."

"Well, someone found it. Captain Erica Brown was patrolling the North Sea, when she encountered carrier based fighters. You'd best take a look at the photos she took, sir." He said, handing the photos over.

Lemay took the photos, and his hands began to shake, as his heart sank deeper than the Lusitania. He noticed Jamie peeking around the corner, and motioned for her to come closer. "Assemble the 8th." He said, almost a whisper. "We've got a problem." For the first time since 1942, Jamie was scared, as she ran back to the mess hall and gathered her witches, who were dismayed at being pulled from the dance.

Several hours later, Erica Brown arrived at High Wycombe, looking quite frayed as she docked her bomber units in the hangar and ran to the briefing room. Jamie had assembled the girls, and was just about to explain, when Erica burst into the room. "Captain Erica Brown, callsign Wandervogel. I'm sure you're all confused as to why you've been gathered here." The snowy girl said, walking up to the podium. She handed a sealed dossier to Jamie, who projected it for the girls. Even Jamie was surprised as the room was nearly covered by the massive 3D blueprint. "Ladies, what you are seeing is something that has never been seen before by anyone except for the top brass in Farawayland, and the prime minister of Brittania. Project Habakkuk was an attempt to create a mid-ocean stopping point for heavy bombers and fighters, before we had the benefit of long-range fuel tanks and runways in the Azores region. It is a giant floating aircraft carrier, made out of pykrete, which is a combination of wood pulp strengthened with ice. Allow me to demonstrate."

An assistant walked in with a block of ice, and a block of something that looked like frozen wood and mud. He set them both on the stage, as Erica pulled out her Walther P.38, and fired. The ice block shattered, but the shot fired at the pykrete ricocheted off and grazed the assistant's trousers. "This is what we are dealing with, ladies." Erica announced. "This pykrete material covers the entire ship, and is impervious to bullets of any kind. It is twelve hundred meters long, one hundred and eighty meters wide, and the roof above the hangars is resistant to munitions up to one thousand kilograms. It was abandoned in 1943 because of resource concerns, and now… the Neuroi have it. Habakkuk is big enough to launch heavy bombers, and it is possible that they could launch a large scale bombing raid on eastern Brittania if we don't stop them. But we _will _stop them, there is no margin for error." Erica stated imperatively.

Most of the witches seemed dismayed, even Jamie was looking quite glum. Then, Roberta raised her hand. "So if it is resistant to bullets up to a thousand kilos, how are we going to stop it?"

"An excellent question!" Erica said. "…I have no idea."

The witches groaned, as Jamie collected her thoughts and spoke up. "Well, we could use Bridget's Grand Slam attack, but if that doesn't work we won't have enough time to go back to base and resupply. Even a battleship might not work, even if we had one… because judging from your photos, this thing has enough firepower to make HMS Prince of Wales look like a rubber duck in a bathtub. You have Fritz X bombs, which could inflict damage, but other than that, we might have to take a different approach to this." Jamie concluded. "Does anyone have any experience with torpedoes?"

Samantha, Thelma, and Pauline raised their hands simultaneously. "You kidding, chief?" Samantha chuckled a little. "We were raised in the Pacific on TBD Devastators." Thelma smiled embarrassedly. "If a Fairey Swordfish can sink a battleship, this is nothing we can't handle." Pauline remarked. The rest of the girls looked a little dismayed, as most of them were raised on land bases.

"Well, here's what we can do." Jamie said. "We have some Avenger Mk.1's, Vickers Wellingtons with two 690kg torpedoes each, and we can call in the 617th, the Dambusters, with their four thousand pound bouncing bombs. Though I'd like to keep this mission on the down low, so as not to affect everyone's morale. This mission is to be of utmost secrecy, not a word of it will leave this room. Tomorrow we're launching. Early. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am…" The girls said in unison.


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: The Heart of Fire**

Early the next morning, Jamie personally came through the barracks, waking everyone up. Samantha seemed especially embarrassed to have Jamie see her in undergarments, but it was not the biggest concern for the Lt. Col. at this time. "Rise and shine." Jamie said. "We've got a long way to go."

As the girls drowsily walked out to the hangar, Erica was already there, waiting for them, with her Fw-200 units all warmed up. She seemed to give them a cold look, as she impatiently waited for them to get their gear together. "If this was an air raid, you'd all be dead already." She snapped. "A good pilot can get it together in five minutes."

This invoked some mild hatred from the girls of the 8th, as they muttered about her acting all high and mighty. Nevertheless, they put their units on and grabbed their guns. At the same time, the 617th Lancaster Group and Wellingtons from RAF Coastal Command were taking off from Horsham St. Faith, and would meet them along the way. No.832 Avenger Squadron was to fly to the Ark Royal, and refuel there before coordinating with the combined fleet. The 8th Joint Strike Force took off from the runway at High Wycombe, and all was quiet. Most of the boys weren't even out of bed yet, still dreaming of their girlfriends and families back home. They couldn't be told about the mission, because Lemay decided it wasn't necessary to let them know that the war wasn't technically over yet. And so, the 8th climbed higher into the sky, to make sure that nobody would ever have to face this threat of invasion, just when everyone thought it was over. As they flew along, Erica pulled Roberta aside. "Tell me something." Erica prompted. "Why do you fly?"

Roberta was clearly confused. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean, what is your reason to fly here? What makes you different from all the other girls, other than your red hair? What powers your resolve? Tell me just what makes you so special, and why everyone is always talking about you?" Erica demanded.

"People are talking about me?" Roberta said, blushing a little. "Well, that's good to hear… I want to inspire people. I want to break free of the status quo, to make a change in this world, to give other people hope, and most of all, to give them a reason to fly. I'm sure you've heard of my 25th mission, right? Some people argue whether I was really the first one, or if Hell's Angels finished theirs first. But it doesn't matter. The point is that it wasn't impossible to complete a twenty five mission tour of duty, and I wanted to prove that to the world. I want to give them a reason to get back into the plane, a reason to fly hundreds of miles risking life and limb against all odds. I want them to go up there, believing they will see their families again, that there is something worth fighting for. I want them to have the will to live, to persevere even when everyone is telling them it's impossible. I want to give them the hope of a better tomorrow, and the will to pursue that tomorrow. That is why I fight. That is why I fly." Roberta concluded.

Erica was stunned, and her eyes were wide as saucers as she listened to Roberta. "Then… are you ready to die to inspire people? Are you ready to become a martyr of this war, in the name of inspiring people? Because this mission is not a joke, there is a good chance some of us won't make it home."

Roberta locked eyes with Erica. "The old chaplain at our base once said to us, 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' If I have to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect the ones I love, then so be it."

"I'm sorry for doubting you." Erica admitted. "Now I know that I can fight alongside you, and that you won't let us down."

As the coast of Brittania faded away, they could see contrails ahead of them, as the 617th Lancasters and Coastal Command Wellingtons ploughed through the clouds. Behind them were Avengers from No.382 Squad, as the sky was filled with the sound of roaring engines. The frigid wind of the North Sea struck the girls in the face like a slap of the hand, as they turned on the de-icing for their bomber units. Only Erica seemed unphased by this, as she kept her normal, serious expression. It was to be expected, as she spent forty eight hours at a time in this weather, without even batting an eye at the cold.

Suddenly, Samantha heard a ping on her radar. "Lt. Col. Doolittle. Enemy contacts. Closing fast."

"Fighters? How many?" Jamie asked.

"Not fighters… Heavy bombers. About thirty contacts. They're heading for the east coast!" Samantha cried.

"We might be too late…" Erica said.

"We have to stop them." Jamie stated. "Our bombers can't engage other bombers effectively, and there's not enough fighters on the east coast to stop them. Diamond Lil, Yankee Lady, Lonesome Lady, Aluminum Overcast, and Windy City, I need you to stop those bombers in their tracks. Take the intercept course and put up a defensive wall, don't let a single one through!"

"Roger!" The five girls answered, as they peeled off to intercept the swarm. As the Neuroi heavies approached, the girls positioned themselves to take the attack head on. Thelma fired a couple of missiles into the swarm, thinning out their numbers and destroying five bombers. Esther then used her Downdraft ability to blow the first wave back, and Alice followed up with Thunderstruck, reducing their numbers to about fifteen. Stephanie used Starstorm, cutting up five more bombers, before Lillian rushed into the middle of the fight. She pulled out both of her .50 cals, and went on a shooting rampage, destroying ten of the bombers in rapid succession. The girls cheered as the enemy planes faded into shards.

"Don't cheer just yet." Natalya spoke up. "We're not done here." She pointed at the iceberg in the distance.

"THAT'S the Habakkuk?!" Bridget cried out.

"Look on the bright side, you can't possibly miss a target that big." Abigail snickered.

No sooner had she finished her sentence, when flak began to burst around them. This was not like flak they had ever experienced before, and the blasts were much bigger. Suddenly, a three hundred sixty millimeter shell sailed into the Coastal Command's Wellington formation, and detonated, destroying all of the medium bombers in a single blow. Nobody said anything, everyone was completely dumbfounded by this, as the Dambusters stood and saluted their flaming comrades.

"Mein Gott in Himmel…" Erica whimpered. "Don't tell me they figured out how to make Type 3 anti-aircraft shells…"

"Never underestimate your opponent… we should've known better than to fly so close together." Jamie admitted, dodging a wing fragment. "All operational aircraft… respond."

"Dambusters, standing by. Not sure for how long, though." The lead plane responded.

"No.382 Avengers on standby. We need to punish those Neuroi, they killed some good lads just now." The lead plane muttered.

"Now don't do anything rash." Jamie stated. "We're splitting up. The 8th will come in lengthwise towards the Habakkuk and drop our bombs on the deck, hopefully we can soften up the AA guns. Once that's done, No.382 will come in from the port side of the ship and launch torpedoes, followed by the Dambusters with their bouncing bombs. Good luck to you all, clock is ticking."

As the planes and witches split up, Samantha's radar picked up another contact. "Lt. Col., another contact just took off from the enemy carrier."

"Fighters?" Jamie asked.

"Negative. I'm not sure what this is. But it's fast, and it's heading this way." Samantha responded.

Suddenly, a new Neuroi appeared before them. Unlike all the ones they had previously faced, this one looked humanoid in form, and it held a dark katana in one hand. The Neuroi positioned itself between the Habakkuk and the witches, as if to deny them passage.

"Dammit…" Jamie said. "We can't afford a delay, otherwise the AA will still be at full strength when the torpedo bombers go in."

"Jamie. I'll take care of this." Roberta spoke up. Everyone turned to look at her, as she had a determined look in her eye. "Go take care of Habakkuk, I'll deal with this one."

"Roberta, you can't! I won't allow this, we can take him together!" Esther cried out, as the Neuroi charged at them.

It was coming for Esther, and Roberta pushed Esther out of the way to shield her, as the Neuroi sword just grazed her cheek. Roberta paused for a moment, as she wiped her cheek, and then saw the blood on her hand. "Oh, so you wanna play, huh?" She said, gritting her teeth. Jamie led the other witches away, silently wishing Roberta luck as Pauline dragged Esther kicking and screaming with them.

The Neuroi swordsman had no eyes, yet he brandished his sword as if to taunt the witch. The girl pulled back the bolt on her .50 cal, unjamming a bullet from the breech, and opened fire on the black warrior. Her foe's sword moved faster than sound, as it cleanly sliced through the 12.7mm bullets with unparalleled precision. "So it's come to this then? I guess it can't be helped…" Roberta sighed. As her adversary struck a challenging pose, Roberta's eyes gleamed. "Special technique… Flameheart!" She yelled, as her body was engulfed in a great fire. Roberta's red hair came out of its usual bun, as it unfurled past her shoulders with yellowish highlights, much like actual flames. As she continued to burn, her hair looked as though it actually was fire itself, as her ears and tail followed suit. The Browning M2 formed a rounded shield on the barrel, much like the Plexiglas nose of a B-17, as it glowed just like her traditional magic shield. Finally, she took a special .50 cal incendiary bullet, and bit the tip off of it. The bullet ignited from the intense heat, and formed a flaming broadsword blade. As the inferno cloud subsided, Roberta brandished her new incendiary sword and her shielded .50 cal, as her hair and tail continued to blaze with fire. Roberta charged her foe with tremendous speed, yelling a battle cry as her fiery sword burned fiercely. The Neuroi dodged her attack, as it jumped back and fired a laser burst at her. Roberta shielded herself with her gun's shield, deflecting a shot as she returned fire with her .50 caliber. It was difficult to focus on accuracy while moving, and the Neuroi slipped up momentarily. An incendiary round clipped its propulsion unit, which induced an angry growl. The foe charged, with his lightning fast blade raised high. Roberta locked swords with the enemy, as her fiery sword burned ever brighter. The two grappled with their swords, until Roberta pulled out her Browning and fired into the Neuroi's hip. The swordsman screamed in pain, as it knocked her back with a charged laser blast, and charged at her once more.

Meanwhile, the 8th were flying directly toward the Habakkuk. It was quite an impressive sight, had it not been for the Neuroi technology fused into the deck. The sky lit up with anti-aircraft fire from five inch guns, forty millimeter guns, and even unguided phosphorus rockets as they came down to the deck at a forty-five degree angle. The experience from D-Day had paid off, as their bombs slammed into the deck, detonating the AA ammo storage on the port and starboard sides, and putting some satisfactory dents in the deck. The small caliber AA guns went silent, but the torpedo bombers were still threatened by the 360mm battleship turrets on the deck, which were desperately trying to track the small planes. The lead wave of Avengers were hit by an exploding shot, but not before they got torpedoes in the water. The submerged warheads ripped into the port side of the iceberg, creating a gaping hole and letting seawater in. The Dambusters took their chance, and surged forward as the bomb bay doors opened, revealing the 4000lb barrel shaped bombs. A spinning mechanism wound up, and sent the explosives spinning as they dropped into the water, and the planes broke off their course. The barrels went spinning, bouncing off the frigid water, as they sailed right through the hole in the ship, and exploded, setting off a chain reaction that detonated several ammo magazines and blew a fifty ton deck elevator five feet into the air, and into the sea. Bridget saw her chance, and came down with all her might, sending the Grand Slam screaming into the core at sonic speeds, piercing it with enough force to shatter seven battleships as it exploded and tore the ship apart. The core shattered into glittery fragments, as the ship broke into five pieces, and began to sink slowly into the North Sea.

Meanwhile Roberta was locked in combat with the swordsman, and caught a glimpse of the Habakkuk exploding. Even the Neuroi turned to look momentarily, and it seemed to emit a cry of horror as the five pieces slipped beneath the waves. "Well, what'll you do now? You have nothing left to guard, you have nothing to protect. What are you even fighting for?" Roberta demanded. The swordsman said nothing, but raised its sword one more time, with an intent to kill. In his rage, he left himself open to attack, and as Roberta blocked his strike with her gun shield, she swung her sword. The Neuroi regretted his bloodlust, as he saw his doom approaching in slow motion, and the fiery sword cut him straight to the heart. He tried to reach out to her, but it was too late, and his core shattered. Roberta panted heavily, as her sword and gun fell from her hands. She had exhausted every ounce of her energy, and she could barely even fly. Soon her friends appeared, rushing toward her as fast as they could, crying her name. Esther was first, as she rushed over to hug her sister. "You did it, Roberta!" She cried gleefully. "I knew you could do it. I was so worried for you…" Esther bawled.

"You did well, comrade. I am proud to fight alongside you." Natalya smiled.

"Not bad, for a Liberion I suppose." Erica said, turning away. "You did well."

The rest was drowned out by cheers from the girls, as they flew home with the Lancasters.

Upon arrival at High Wycombe, they were met by Commander Lemay. "I heard everything that went on from Erica. You did well, Lt. Col. Morgan." He smiled.

Roberta's eyes widened. "Sir, you couldn't possibly mean…!"

"It's the very least I can do." Lemay smiled.

"Thank you sir!" Roberta smiled, her eyes gleaming.

"Let's hear it for Lieutenant Colonel Roberta Morgan, the Memphis Belle!" Jamie cried, as they gleefully tossed her into the sky. "Hip hip, hooray!"

Even the Dambusters were proud to shake hands with this young girl, who had been such an inspiration to everyone. Though nobody else on the base knew of the secret mission, the girls continued to party with them, now that a real end to the war in Europe was brought about. The girls were free to go home, and though parting was sorrowful to them, they were still happy to go back home to their families and countries. Even more so for Jamie, as she went on to marry Curtiss Lemay, and they continued to serve the Air Force together. As for the special technique Roberta used, she could never fully explain how she did it. "It just kinda happened. I guess it came from my will to protect my squadron." She would say when asked about it.

Upon returning to the states, Roberta was approached by a very official looking man, who asked her if she was interested in becoming a teacher at an institution he was building in Dayton, Ohio. Roberta promptly agreed, moving there with her sister to become the first instructor at the Academy for Aspiring Bomber Witches, at Wright Patterson AFB. She was very grateful, saying that she still had a lot of things to learn, herself. But she was very excited about inspiring young new witches from all across the country, and teaching them how to be a true Bomber Witch.

As for Project Habakkuk, the prime minister of Brittania and the Farawayland's minister of national defense denied any and all information regarding the existence of such a project, and even the Dambusters were sworn to secrecy on all accounts regarding their mission. The team that was originally tasked with building the Habakkuk prototype was relocated with new identities, and all prototypes of the project were destroyed within three summers.

As for the 8th JSF, it was officially disbanded due to the end of the war. Jamie stated that, "Now that we are at peace, the world doesn't need bombers anymore. It might never need them again, in fact. But if a day comes when the world needs us, we'll be there. Because the Bomber Witches Always Get Through."

THE END


End file.
